It's a flower
by Iikku The Eyebrow Master
Summary: Matthew tries stay unnoticed at school, but a certain punk is making that rather difficult. EnglandXCanada. Multichapter. School AU. Rated M for language, penis doodles, violence, sex stuff, angst and that lovely sexual tension.
1. Chapter 1

**MAPLE TEA~ HELL YEAH! **

**I was in the middle of physics class with my friend. We made some Hetalia jokes, and she started to kick my chair, whispering "Notice me" (our Canada joke) and so I did, by drawing a penis on her notes. She turned into a flower, and I was struck by inspiration. Sorry for any spelling errors or bad grammar. This might be a oneshot, or I might continue this~ I don't know...**

It was a regular lesson. Mathematics, to be exact. Matthew was average, he was neither good or bad with the numbers. He went quite unnoticed there, occasionally the teacher might ask him something. He was very invisible actually in every class, unlike his twin brother. Alfred was well known by everyone, the teachers and the students. Matthew was known as "his brother", and that suited him well. He didn't want to make a number out of his school years. He tried to dress as plain as possible, wearing simply hoodies and jeans that didn't gather attention. However, the person who was sitting in front of him during the maths made it very difficult one day.

Arthur Kirkland, a punk from the UK, was a brilliant mind but he was lacking motivation. He was a second year student, but had flunked maths and was now repeating the classes. He tended to make a scene during lessons, much to the teachers' dismay. Arthur usually left Matthew alone, but this day was different. He had turned around in his seat to face Matthew. He was wearing a black shirt and a union jack T-shirt on it (which was rather mainstream for a punk, but he was british afterall. Patriomism, eh?) and ripped green jeans with a striking pair of neon-pink converses (not the real deal).The mischievous green eyes stared him, distracting him from his studies. The punk smirked.

" 'Ello Mattie", he said. The use of his nickname made chills go down his spine. What was he up to?

"Hello Arthur", Matthew ansrewed, trying to sound neutral.

"How have you been?" Arthur asked, rather quietly. Now Matthew looked at the brit. Usually he started a provoking conversation, no formalities, and most importantly he was not quiet.

"Fine... You?"

"Can't complain", Arthur ansrewed, pulling Matthew's notebook closer. The other students were now watching them carefully. Arthur ignored them completely. He grabbed his pencil, and doodled something on the page of the notebook.

Correction: He drew a penis.

"What the hell...?" Matthew whispered, glaring the grinning punk. The teacher had noticed this situation, and was now walking towards them. In panic, Matthew doodled something on the penis, trying to disguise it.

"Mr. Kirkland, I would appreciate if you'd stop bugging Mr. Williams here", he said and shot a nasty look at the brit. Then he glanced at Matthew's notebook, trying to see if there was anything out of place.

"Why certainly, teach", Arthur ansrewed sarcastically and turned around. The teacher returned back to front of the class, babbling some mathematical nonsense. Arthur turned around, again, looking at the doodle.

"What the hell is that?"

A wawe of courage and cockiness suddenly hit Matthew.

"It's a flower."

Silence.

"A bloody ugly one, I say", the punk stated. Matthew expected him to turn around, but instead he looked him straight to the eyes.

"Say, lad, who are you to ruin my drawings?"

"...I..."

"Well?"

"I am the owner of this notebook. I think I can decide if I want a dick there or not", he whispered, suprised to get so much annoyance in his voice. Arthur looked at him, blankly. Matthew was certain the brit was going to get him now. _Fuck, why did I even start? He'll beat me up for certain, that wacko._

For his suprise, Arthur was now smiling.

"I like you, lad. Not everyone has the guts to tell me off. I have to say, I did not expect you to have balls for that", he said, now resting his head on his hand, eyes looking straight into Matthew's soul (or that's what it felt like, anyway). It made his stomach twist. _What the hell? What the fucking hell? Is he actually complimenting me?_

The teacher caught them again, glaring them angrily.

"Mr. Kirkland, what did I tell you earlier?"

"Yes yes, don't go PMS on me", Arthur simply ansrewed. The class giggled nervously. After that the brit was thrown out of the class room.

_Shit, now he'll kill me for getting him into trouble. Why oh why did I talk to him in the first place? You're a fucking idiot, Mattie._

Matthew didn't want the class to end. He feared that the punk would get on him, like he had done to some other students. He just wanted to go find a quiet place to work on his biology homework he couldn't finish last night due to Alfred's sudden bro-love and gaming night. Curse on that brother. But maybe he shouldn't be alone somewhere, maybe he should find someone to be with? Maybe Arthur would leave him alone if there were too many witnesses. Yeah, that's it. Alfred wasn't in school today though, the night had been a long one for him. He mentally went through his contacts. Katuysha? No, she was somewhere with the school choir. Tino? Otherwise good, but he had been spending time with Natalia lately...he had a crush on her and now was trying to confess it. No way he could ruin that, Tino was a handful when mad.

Francis! That's it. He'll go to Francis and his mates. Francis, a second year, had immeditely took a liking on the twins on the very first day. He had shown them around and taken care of them. Surely Francis would protect him from Arthur. Also, it seemed they were not in friendly terms. More like...enemies, yeah that's the perfect word to describe them. Those two were often arguing, even in fist fights. Francis just loathed Arthur, and Arthur loathed Francis. Francis would know what to do.

So the bell rang. Trying to disappear into the crowd, Matthew got out of the class among the other students. He quickly glanced around the hallway to see if Arthur was there. Nothing. With a sigh of relief, he hurried out of the building, trying to find Francis as fast as possible.

Right after he opened the door he knew he was screwed.

Arthur was sitting on the fence, looking right at him. Matthew knew he had no escape; the blonde had already seen him.

His heart skipped a beat when the punk jumped of the fence and started getting closer. Matthew froze on the stairs. _Shit. I'm gonna be dead after this._

Other pupils didn't seem to notice this situation. They were busy minding their own. Surely, he tought, if Arthur makes a scene they will notice, right?

The brit was now right in front of him; almost too close. Almost.

"Hello there Mattie."

Again, the usage of his nickname sent a chill down his spine.

"Hey Arthur", he ansrewed, trying to keep his cool. His voice cracked a little in the end. There was this cocky smirk on Arthur's face he was known for.

"Say, mind spending the break with me?" he asked, though not really. Arthur grabbed the younger one's wrist, dragging him along.

"Eh-? A-Arthur, I should do my biology homework now..."

"Oh one time leaving them unfinished will not kill you", Arthur said, not letting the other go as they walked to the school's backside where the trashes were; there wasn't anyone there. Matthew felt a cold sweat. Yeah, he played ice hockey, yeah, he was pretty strong, yeah, Arthur was shorter than him; that didn't matter. Arthur was just batshit crazy. That mattered.

He let go of Matthew's wrist. Matthew was now quite frightened; not only he was going to be beaten up, his hopes of spensing the school years unnoticed were about to go down the drain. Just because he talked with Arthur. _I am a motherfucking stupid hoser._

"Look Arthur, I didn't mean to..." he tried to talk some sense into the brit's head.

"Didn't mean what? You think I am mad at you because you got me out of the bloody class? Lad, I should thank you! I was about to die there, you know", Arthur told him as he climbed onto a trash.

"...What?"

"I said thank you, idiot. Really, I tought you were just one of those boring shy guys with no bloody balls to talk back at me, but I guess I was wrong..."

"Just...just what are you...Fuck, I don't get it. Were you trying to get thrown out of the class?" Matthew asked.

"Well, first I just tried to annoy you, to see what kind of guy you are, but when you did that flower thing I knew I could trust on you with getting the hell out of there. Are you coming up here or are you going to just stand there like a fucking moron?" Arthur motioned Matthew to join him up the trash. Confused and curious, the younger one climbed there, slighty uncertain. The brit kept looking at him, grinning. The younger one sat next to him. Collecting the bits of his courage, Matthew confronted him.

"Why do you keep staring me? You had your eyes on me during the lesson, and you've been staring me even in the cafeteria, and the hallways."

For his suprise, there was a slight redness on Arthur's cheeks. The cocky grin cracked a little, and he glanced away for a few seconds. But only for a few seconds. Then the look was there again, and the redness was gone.

"Hmm, well, there is actually a very simple reason for that."

"I'd like to know what it is, if you don't mind."

"Wait, I'm looking for the right words..." the brit ignored his slight annoyance.

"What the hell? Is it just that you've been planning to disturb my studying today? Because if it is, you've done a pretty damn good job", he snapped. The night spent down gaming with Alfred really had got on his nerves. Normally the quiet blonde would've never been in a situation like this.

Arthur chuckled.

"No, it's not that. How to put it..." the red cheeks made a comeback. Arthur grabbed Matthew's chin gently, closing the distance between them. The canadian felt his heart beat speeding up. What the hell was happening? Was this a joke?

"I find you just bloody fucking sexy. I like you", Arthur said and pressed his lips against Matthew's. It was a short kiss, a careful one, yet enough to startle him. Blushing, Arthur jumped down, leaving the speechless junior alone. He turned around, cockily smiling.

"I'll make your life a little harder soon. Expect some stalking or something, Mattie", he said and left.

Matthew sat there, suprised, confused and most of all uncertain just what had just happened.

Two things were certain: One, Francis would not be able to help Matthew in this one, and two, he was in some big trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**So I did continue this~ I have an idea for this fic that I would like to use. Sorry for making Arthur act a little OOC, it will be explained later. Again, sorry for bad grammar and spelling errors. Boy do I love badass Arthur~**

It had happened two days ago. They had not talked or met after the incident. Matthew was dreading the next maths lesson. Who knows what that wacko is going to do? Occasinally, they saw each other on the school yard or the hallways, Arthur smiling that cocky smile of his, Matthew trying to disappear as soon as possible. He didn't quite understand what had happened at the trashes. Was this one of Arthur's weird jokes or not? He said he would make Matthew's life harder. How?

To protect his reputation, Matthew had not talked about the incident. Others had seemed to forget the small bits they had seen too; like it never happened. So there was no way Alfred or Francis could know about it, thank God. Alfred would've gone all-hero-mode and beat up Arthur or something like that and Francis...Francis would've killed him for kissing one of his "petite lambs". Dammit, life was already hard enough.

To make matters worse, Matthew himself was not certain how he felt. One, they were both guys, and Matthew had never had any gay tendencies. Two, Arthur was, he really was, crazy. This could be one of his sick pranks. Still...after the kiss, he had had hard time forgetting Arthur. Everytime he saw him, he had this tingly feeling in his stomach and his cheeks warmed up. Also, he had had trouble sleeping because he kept thinking about the moment. _It's just because you're in shock and embaressed. That's it, _he told himself. Yet he had difficulties to eat that up.

So the mathematics were about to start and Arthur was nowhere to be seen. _Great_, Matthew thought, he's skipping the class. He felt relieved and relaxed a bit.

"Hello Mattie", a familiar greeting echoed from behind him. Matthew turned around, just to see Arthur and his trademark cockiness leaning on the wall.

"A-Arthur."

"Well no shit lad. Clearly you have not been blessed with a great mind", Arthur stated coldly and came closer, again, ALMOST too close. Matthew felt how his cheeks reddened and heartbeat fastened.

"Say, why don't you join me instead of going to that shitbag's class? I'm in the need of company, and you'd do quite well. Plus, I kind of promised to make your life more difficult", the brit suggested, or atleast that's what it seemed like.

"Uhm, I kinda have to be in this class, I don-" Matthew started, but was cut of by Arthur's hand pressed on his mouth.

"It wasn't a request", he said, and with that, he pulled Matthew, grabbing his red hoodie sleeve, out of the building, out of the school borders.

"What the hell Arthur? I-I don't...dude-" Matthew stuttered, really didn't understand what was happening.

"Shut up and follow me, and you'll be fine", the brit simply told him, still pulling his sleeve.

"The hell I am! Arthur, what the fuck you think you are doing?" Matthew snapped, yanking his arm away. He stopped, waiting for the brit to response.

Again, he received a chuckle.

"I really like the way you snap at me, lad."

Matthew began to feel really pissed off.

"The hell? You do this just because you want me to snap at you? What the hell is wrong with you? I haven't slept properly for three nights, three motherfucking nights, which maked me irritated, and you like that? You really are insane!"

Arthur grinned.

"I guess I like controversiality. You seemed so bloody quiet, but after the last maths class...damn! I knew I have to get me some of you", he said, creeping closer. Now he was TOO CLOSE. Matthew stepped back a little.

"L-look, I don't give a shit about you, and I really have to go to that lesson..." he stuttered, blushing.

"Oh cry me a river. You know how the teacher will yell at people who are late", Arthur said dryly. A shiver creeped along Matthew's spine; their maths teacher sure did hate people who came late.

"I can tell you, it's much more wise to tag along with me than go play with the bloody numbers. So, you coming?" the brit asked, actually ASKED, him follow as he walked towards the centre.

Matthew bit his lip. He knew he should be in class. He knew it was absolutely utterly stupid to go with the punk. He knew the teacher would yell at him if he came there late. He also knew that if he didn't go to the class, the teacher might not realize he wasn't there. He was just that invisible.

And most of all, he knew he was curious.

So he ran after Arthur, mentally swearing.

Arthur led them to a small café in the centre. It was rather cozy, furniture with light colours and wood. Matthew had been there a few times with his friends after school, but this time was different in so many ways. First of all, Arthur was not his friend. Actually, he was more like a bully, when you thought about it. Second, this was not after school. This was during school, he was actually skipping classes. Third, apparently Arthur had a thing for Matthew.

In a sickening, twisted way, this was kind of a date.

_Shit._

The brit chose a conner table in the shadows and ordered them two teas. They did not talk, just drinked their beverages. Arthur stared at Matthew the whole time. The canadian tried his best to avoid eye contact, occasionally checking if the punk was still watching him. Every time he met those piercing green eyes. After a few minutes, his grumpy and tired side fed up.

"Could you please stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"That staring. It's just fucking creepy", Matthew hissed, taking a sip from his tea. It tasted weird. Arthur laughed quietly.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. It's your fault really; you're just bloody gorgeous."

Matthew choked on his tea. He was not used to these kind of compliments, and out of all the people, he didn't expect Arthur Kirkland to say such things to him.

"S-say what? Seriously, is this a sick joke or something? Just tell me straight, this is fucking annoying", he coughed out, glaring the brit. Arthur gave out a dry laugh, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was slightly blushing.

"No, it's not a joke. The truth is, you are just bloody amazing. Hot. You know, just every synonyme for sexy."

"W-what the hell? I am suprised even that you notice me, and you say...that kind of things? Are you high or something?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Trust me, I am not high. I don't do drugs that way. I am dead serious. To be honest, I didn't even now you existed until I saw you play ice hockey once. It was last month, the school game. Remember?"

Of course Matthew remembered. They had won that day. He was one of the three juniors that had got into the schools team (others being his twin and Tino) and he had absolutely ruled the rink. It was one of the few times he was actually trying to get attention and succeeding.

"What? You actually followed the game? I'm suprised. You don't seem like someone who likes sports...or atleast ice hockey", he looked at the other in suspicion.

"Well, I don't usually. But you caught my eye. Shit, the way you moved there...Pardon me my rough language, but damn, you almost gave me a bloody boner."

The canadian went bright red. Not only because Arthur said such vulgar thing, he made it sound almost sophisticated with the "pardons" and all.

"Y-you're...I-you..." he stuttered embaressed. The older one smiled.

_Dammit, the more I spend time with him the more he changes. Three days ago he was a frigging psycho, now he seems almost human._ _Or maybe I'm just imagining. Or going crazy, that's propably it._

"Look, Mattie", Arthur said on a calm tone, "I am not expecting you to fall for me this easily, even if at all. I just wanted to say this before I lose my bloody mind for thinking of you. So I'll keep staring at you, and I will make sure your maths are failing...So beware."

The brit stood up, ready to leave. His eyes studied the café, like checking if there was anyone he knew. Then he kissed Matthew's forehead softly, mumbling a "see ya".

And then he was gone.

Cheeks burning up, Matthew slammed his head against the table. The waitress turned her head to look at the teenager.

"I see you're in a situation you would not like to be", she said, trying to sound friendly.

"You're quite correct there", he muttered running his hands through his curls.

_I'm a fucking idiot._

_A motherfucking idiot who is falling for that psycho._

_Shit._


	3. Chapter 3

**Goddammit I am in love with this story! I have been writing this in school all the friggin' time. Prepare for some angst. Dammit, in three chapters this has turned from humourous fluff into a drama : D I don't know when the next chapter is up, I'm not certain what to do there :( But I will continue this! That's for sure. Oh and Francis~ He is so shocked... D: My OTP is FrUK, so it's kind of weird to write Iggy and the Frog hating each other without leading to sex or fluff...BUTANYWHORE. Maple Tea~ There will be some mistakes with the french, I speak it only enough to rape you...I mean say nice things : D Yeah, that's it...nice things...**

It was quiet for a few days. Matthew didn't meet Arthur. Apparently he hadn't come to school at all. It was a relief for the junior. He was a mental mess and needed some time to arrange his toughts.

Yes, it was now certain that Arthur liked Matthew.

Yes, Arthur was making some moves.

Yes, Matthew found that uncomfortable.

Yes, Matthew was kind of liking Arthur too.

No, he did not know what to do.

He wanted to talk about it, ask someone some advices. But really, who could he turn on? Katuysha was nice and understanding, she would be a great listener. Only thing was that she herself was having some rough time with her life, and he didn't want to mess it more with his worries. Tino was too focused on Natalia, plus he wasn't that good with emotional issues. Alfred? No. If he told his brother, there was a chance that the whole school would know about it. And that was something Matthew definently did not want.

Francis was the only one left. He knew these things, he had so much experience. He knew what to do. Only thing that was stopping him begging Francis to help was the simple fact that it was that Francis hated Arthur from the depths of his heart.

Life was not smiling for Matthew, that's for sure.

It was lunch break. Matthew was sitting with Alfred, Francis, Gilbert and that danish guy, Mathias. The other four were quite noisy, gathering some looks from the other students, who were obviously desperate to join them. Who wouldn't? Alfred was propably one of the most popular guys in the school, Francis was amazingly handsome (and according his own words, a sex god), Gilbert and Mathias were good-looking too, and all of them were nown to be great company. The girls wanted to date them and the guys wanted to be them.

The only one who did not want to sit with them was Matthew himself. He had found a table to sit alone so he could think, but then Alfred came, soon followed by Francis and the others. Of course, he couldn't ask them to leave, that would be impolite, and he couldn't leave himself, that might give him in. He was pretty much stuck there.

Alfred, Gilbert and Mathias were building a fork tower. They were as excited as a four-year old would be (and mentally, they propably were four). Francis, who was sitting opposite to Matthew, stared at the junior, with a knowing look in his eyes. The canadian began to feel nervous.

"Mon ami, you seem even quieter today zan usually. Es tu malade?" he asked.

"Non, je suis OK", Matthew ansrewed. They had a habit of speaking in french and english mixed, Francis for patrionims, Matthew for the fun of it.

"Really? Are you sure? Because you are a little pale. Do you 'ave something on your 'eart?"

Oh did he ever.

"No, I am perfectly fine."

"Mon petit Matthieu, please remember zat I am a master of reading people. I can tell something is bothering you", Francis said, leaning his head on his hand.

"I tell you, I am fine", the junior tried to tell, feeling his cheeks warming up. Francis glanced at the noisy trio, then back at Matthew.

"Ami, vhat you say ve leave zese pricks 'ere? You can tell me vhen ve are alone", he suggested and stood up, motioning his head towards the door.

He knew he shouldn't.

But maybe, just maybe he could trick Francis to give him some advices in this matter.

So he followed the french blonde.

They had found their way to one bench far from the other students. Matthew was sitting on it, avoiding Francis's eyes. The older one was standing infront of him, switching his weight from one leg to another.

"So, vhat is on your mind? Tell moi, Matthieu."

Matthew's eyes locked on his feet. Yeah, he wanted to tell Francis, he needed his help, but still, would Francis advice him? Francis hated Arthur and would never give him what he wanted, and in this case it was Matthew.

But if he didn't talk about this to anyone his head would explode.

"Someone...someone has a crush on me", he sighed. He felt his cheeks reddening when Francis talked.

"And you don't feel ze same vay?"

He shook his head.

"That's the problem. I kind of do."

"Vell, vho is she?"

_Fuck._

"It's...it's a he."

Matthew knew Francis's eyes widened, even if he didn't see him.

"Oh."

A slighty awkward silence followed.

"I didn't know you're g-"

"I didn't know it either. And I have difficulties believing it", Matthew interrupted the blonde.

Another silent moment.

"Vell, vho am I to judge, I 'ave 'ad a few men myself. Vho is 'e?"

Matthew didn't ansrew. He knew he shouldn't.

"Matthieu?"

"I can't-"

"Just tell moi. I promise I von't judge."

"...promise?"

"Oui."

He knew it wasn't true, not after Francis would find out who it was. He knew he should not tell him. He said it anyway.

"It's Arthur Kirkland."

Francis flinched. His body became tense and fist clenched.

_This was a mistake._

"Arthur, eh?" the older one repeated on a very calm tone, trying to hide his irritation. Matthew prepared to get yelled.

"Are you un idiot?! Merde, Arthur Kirkland! Are you realizing vhat you 'ave got yourself into? Zat limey is just trouble! Je ne crois pas toi..." Francis slipped to use very angry french on a dialect Matthew didn't understand.

"Francis, please, parler anglais..." he pleaded, looking at the french for the first time. A furious glance was recieved.

"Matthieu, vhat are you zinking? 'ow did you find out 'e likes toi?"

"...he told me..."

"And? Did somezing else 'appen?" Francis's accent was thickening, due to all the rage.

The kiss on the trashes, the moment in the café ran through his mind.

"...Non."

Francis didn't seem to believe him. Matthew was now staring his feet again. He left the french eyes drilling their way into Matthew's head.

"Fine. Nozing else 'appened", Francis huffed.

Suddenly, he grabbed Matthew's shoulders, forcing the junior to look up in his eyes.

"Nozing else 'appened, and nozing else vill 'appen. D'accord? It's for your own safety", he hissed, keeping the contact for a while. Then he pushed Matthew, storming off.

"Je mal a la tete. Adieu", he shouted after. The other one was left alone.

_Fuck, why did I do this?_

Matthew buried his face in his hands. He heard the bell ring; he didn't care. The other students disappeared, leaving the school ground silent. Matthew didn't want to go to class. He couldn't focus, too many things were happening at once, leaving him drained. He just wanted to disappear. Francis propably hated him now. He may have lost one of his best friends. Why had he told him? Even an utter idiot realizes it is not wise to tell someone you kind of like his worst enemy.

"Stupid hoser", he muttered by himself. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice someone to appear infront of him until he heard his voice.

"Hello Mattie."

He lifted his head, gazing at the speaker.

Arthur.

"...you said you were going to make my life harder. Good fucking job."

"Promise is a promise", Arthur smiled.

No.

He smiled apologeptically.

"Look lad, I can't stand the frog..."

"Frog?"

"Frog, I mean Francis. I hate him, and he hates me, but I'm sorry about that...thing", he sighed and sat down next to Matthew.

"You...you saw it?"

"Yes. I didn't mean to make you lose a friend. You propably don't want to see or talk to me now, but I just wanted to say I am sorry."

Matthew didn't say anything.

"You are not going to the class, are you?"

"Not really feeling like that, not after that."

"Well, if you don't hate me too much, you could come hang out with me in the park", Arthur suggested. It was quiet for a moment.

"Why the fuck not. Let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, chapter 4 is up. It's fluffy. That's all I can say. Also, when I write this, I don't use description that much for the simple fact that guys aren't that descriptive. I don't like that ukesemelovelovecrap, I want these guys to be disgusting and manly and awkward. YEAH. (I'm failing, though.)  
**

The park wasn't really anything special; a few benches, playground for children and trees. There was also a small hill there, on which the boys were sitting on. Again, they didn't talk. Matthew didn't know what to say, Arthur didn't strike up a conversation. Oddly enough, he wasn't staring at Matthew. Instead he ws gazing down the hill, as if trying to avoid the canadian's eyes.

_He really is ashamed._

For the first time ever, Matthew studied Arthur. His blonde hair was really messy, kind of like a nest. He had very pale skin, a milky white shade, which made the thick black eyebrows stand out. Arthur was skinny in a boney-kind of way. Overall, he wasn't someone that you could call good-looking, actually he was a little crude.

When you tought about everything, his looks, his personality, his effect on Matthew's life, you really couldn't understand why Matthew was falling for him.

Suddenly Arthur spoke up, startling Matthew.

"Let me ask you, why are you friends with Frog anyway?"

Matthew lifted his eyebrows.

"Why are you asking?"

"Just curious."

With a sigh, Matthew leaned back and fixed his glasses.

"I don't know; on the first day in school, Alf and I were a little lost so we just asked someone where the biology class is. It happened to be Francis who we asked, and things got rolling. My friends are usually more like Tino or Katyusha, the quieter, normal ones, so I have no idea what Francis sees in me. Maybe it's just because I'm Alfred's brother."

Now the familiar (strange to think that way) stare was back.

"Say, Arthur, why are you acting like this? First you were aggressive, a fucking psycho, and now you're like...I don't know...polite? Yeah. Polite and all. What the hell?"

Arthur bit his lip, blushing slighty.

"It's because I put rum in my tea."

"...What?"

"Rum, you know, the stuff that pirates drank. I put it in my bloody tea."

"Yeah, I got that, but what do you mean, 'It's because I put rum in my tea' thing?" Matthew asked, copying the british accent. Arthur snickered.

"Well, I drink tea every morning, and for the last few bloody days we've had the wrong brand of rum. It's a bit stronger than the usual, so I acted differently because of that."

"You're fucking weird."

"Why? Because of the rum?"

"No, I can see you drinking rum. But tea?"

"Do not forget, I am british afterall."

They laughed a bit. Matthew felt relaxed, for the first time in days. Arthur wasn't really that horrible; actually he was quite good company. It was weird for him to think that way, but even with all the trouble Arthur had caused he made Matthew enjoy himself.

_Dammit, am I a masochist or something?_

"So they were kind of drunk confessions, what you said on the trashes."

"Well, if you look it that way."

"So...do you drink a lot of alcohol...? Other than in tea."

"Not really. I can't handle myself while drunk. I slip rum in my tea just for the taste, not to get drunk. Occasionally I do drink though, usually to make myself feel better or atleast numb. You?"

"Alfred has thrown a few parties with alcohol, and I have had a few there, but I am not a drinker. Plus, everytime I was drunk I did something stupid", he ansrewed.

"Like what?"

"Do I really have to tell?"

"If you may", the polite Arthur was back.

"Ah, well, once I started making out with that Michelle, you know her. Well, it lead to...things."

"Oh?"

"She was really mad in the morning", Matthew blushed. It was embaressing for him to talk about it, and he really didn't know Arthur that well. There was just something that made him talk.

"Don't worry, lad, it's not the worst that can happen. I have done much stupider things", Arthur said, smiling kind of shyly.

"Like? You have to tell me, I already told you what I did."

"Bloody hell...Okay, threesome."

"Whaaat?!"

"See? No selfcontrol at all!"

"With who? People from our school?"

Arthur hid his face behind his hair. You could see his face was bright red.

"I can't tell you, you'd never see those people the same way again..."

"C'mon..."

"I'm not telling you...!"

"Just say it."

"No, I will not. I won't tell who they were. All I can say, they were male", he laughed a little.

"What? Oh my God, you're a horrible drunk."

"Meh. Was worth it. Anyone can shag a girl, but it takes a proper drunk to have gay threesome."

It was an awkward conversation, but neither of them felt that way. It was just fun, as strange as it sounds.

Arthur turned on his stomach so he was facing Matthew, folded arms holding him up. They looked at each other, quietly.

"Mattie."

"Yeah?"

Arthur came a little closer, face just inches away from Matthew's.

"I'd like to kiss you now."

There was a still moment. Then Matthew pressed his lips against Arthur's for a sweet kiss. His arms snaked around Arthur as he pulled him down.

Arthur was intoxicating. His lips, they were magic, they tasted like rum and tea.

It was the best kiss Matthew had ever had.

Their lips parted, leaving a blush on their cheeks. Arthur smiled.

"As good as I tought it would be."

Now Matthew knew. He really liked this punk. He really, really liked him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, sorry for the slight delay! I had a small block...but I did this at school whenever I was bored (meaning I wrote this atleast 4 hours a day...) and I am not too good at these kind of scenes. But here you go anyways. Also thanks for the follows and favourites and reviews and everything! I feel awesome(r than Prussia). Also sorry for not ansrewing the reviews, I am Finnish and therefore I can't be social. Hahahhaajoke. Also, I am making some of my fave ships appear in this thing, so prepare for some shipsterity.**

"You weren't in biology today."

It was a simple statement made by his twin, waiting for an explanation.

"I was sick", Matthew lied. Alfred let out a "huh" and let it be. They were home alone, parents being at work. The twins were watching TV, even though not really following the programme. Alfred lied down on the couch, taking almost all of the room there, and Matthew sat on the floor, legs on the coffee table.

"Hey Matt, guess who is dating Natalia?"

"Tell me."

Alfred snickered.

"Feliks. Can you believe that?"

"You're kidding me! Feliks and Natalia?" Matthew gasped, trying to wrap his head around the image. Natalia was pretty hot stuff, and Feliks was just weird. Alfred nodded excitedly.

"I'm telling the truth! I can't believe it by myself either, I mean, Nat could get anyone, ANYONE, and she chooses that creep?"

"Is she dumb or something?"

"Could be. You know, I always though Feliks is gay", Alfred said and rubbed his eyes. Matthew got alarmed by the word "gay".

"We-well, apparently he isn't. Natalia and Feliks...that was a suprise", he tried to avoid the subject. Luckily Alfred was easy to lead.

"I know! I just can't believe it. You should've seen Tino's look on this face when we saw Natalia and Feliks kissing. He was like, 'WHUUUUT?', I mean, he has been trying to hit on Natalia for months now and then she does that? That must hurt."

"Is he okay?" Matthew asked, worried of his friend. Alfred nodded and streched on the couch.

"Yeah, he just wondered what he ever saw on that bitch. Except for killer-hockey skills. After that we went to McDonalds with Mathias and that geek, what's his name, Eduard. And there was this chick with HUGE boobs, bigger than Katyusha's! We stared at her all the time..." Alfred continued his rambling, letting Matthew wander off in his thoughts.

What is Al found out about Arthur and him? That wouldn't be pretty. Alfred didn't have anything against gays, as long as they were "not on his backyard". He'd freak out, that's for sure. Arthur was definently not his favourite person, much to Francis' effect. The Frenchman knew how to manipulate his twin, not that it was too difficult.

"Hey Matt, did ya hear me?"

A sudden question drag Matthew back on Earth.

"Uh, what?"

"Why hasn't Francis picked my calls? I tried to ask him to help me with chemistry, but his phone isn't on. Do you know what's with him?"

Fuck, was Francis now dragging Alfred into this mess too?

"No, I don't know...Maybe he's sick? Or his phone is broken", Matthew suggested, knowing exactly what was happening. Alfred ate it, and didn't mention Francis again. Instead they talked about ice hockey. They had a game tomorrow, and they hadn't had any practices for a week, their coach being sick and unable to get someone take care of it. Matthew was slightly worried, unlike Alfred. The louder twin was certain they were going to "beat the living shit" out of the opponent as long as they had their Hockey Hero in the team, referring to himself.

"And come on, you rule at hockey, Tino is a devil with his strategies, and Ivan? Dude, he's creepy, but sure knows how to handle that stick. Did you see last time when he..." Alfred was cut of by Matthew's cellphone ringing. He got a text from Arthur. Excusing himself, he lelf his brother alone with the TV no one was watching and hurried into his room. He couldn't text there, Al was too curious and would've snatched the phone away. That would've led to a big mess.

Opening the text message, he lied down on his bed and kicked a hoodie off on the floor.

"Hiya Mattie. Want to see me tomorrow?"

The canadian sent a quick ansrew, slighty disappointed.

"Sorry, got a game."

Soon the phone buzzed again.

"Fuck. Want me to come see it?"

"Are U sure its wise?"

"Ill be in the back so no one will notice."

Smiling, Matthew sent the ansrew. It was a funny feeling, that feeling he got when he texted with the brit.

"OK, but make sure u wont be noticed."

Again, a light flicking on and off indicated there was a new message waiting for him.

"OK, see ya there!"

Matthew placed the phone on his nightstand and stood up. Sure, it was risky for Arthur to come see the game as they were trying to keep their "thing" as a secret, but who cares? It was great, for someone to come see him play. Sure, his parents did it sometimes, and his friends, but they also came to see Alfred. For someone to come and see just Matthew, that was a new, wonderful thing.

"Hey Matt! Ya gotta come see this, there's a dog stuck in a barrel and the barrel is stuck in a washing machine that is on! It's awesome!" Alfred yelled from downstairs, laughing like a maniac. Simple mind, simple funs, Matthew tought as he left the room to join his brother's company.

Matthew had the puck, no opponents in sight and a perfect spot to score a goal. His hair was sweaty, breath unsteady. The audience was cheering, but he did not hear it; he had become numb for it a long time ago. The goalie glared at him, getting ready for the shot. Matthew swung his stick.

Clash.

The puck hit the net as the goalie fell face down on the ice. The audience was cheering now even louder. They had scored another goal.

"Way to go, Matt! That was awesome!" his twin crashed against him for a bro-hug. Other team members came and did the same. Matthew barely noticed it, it was as if his body was on automode. His eyes were locked on the back of the hall, on the blonde punk smiling there. Adrenaline filled his body when the Brit winked. He was going to show Arthur what he was made of, give him something to think about.

In the end their team won the match 6-2. Three of the goals had come from Matthew's blade. Their team's locker room was filled with the smell of sweat and praises of Matthew.

"Damn Matt, you were on fire there! I was afraid that you were going to melt the fucking ice!" Alfred gave a friendly smack on his brother's back.

"That wouldn't have stopped you though! You were amazing!" Tino joined them, followed by Berwald and Ivan. Matthew smiled, wanting to get out and meet Arthur.

"You were indeed great, Comrade Matvey. You might even become the captain next year when Berwald graduates", Ivan said, smiling that creepy smile of his. Berwald nodded.

"Seriously Matt, I thought we might be a bit rusty but that game of yours...Perkele, you could've beaten them all on your own!" Tino stated.

"C'mon, I wasn't that good..." Matthew started, trying to slip away from the group, failing to do so when Alfred wrapped his arm around him.

"Oh yeah you were! Dude, we gotta celebrate this! Let's go to Mickey D's after this! Yeah!" he suggested. Most of the team agreed.

"Eh, I feel a little drained, I think I'm going to go home catch some sleep..."

"What? No, you can't do that Matt, you're the hero of the day! And I don't call other people heroes for nothing", Alfred tried to convince his twin to come. Matthew shook his head, escaping his brother's hug.

"No, I really need to sleep, I slept badly and this wasn't exactly helpful. I'll see you at school tomorrow, right?" he said quickly and escaped the room.

He rushed to the corner where Arthur was supposed to meet him, only to find out the Brit wasn't there yet. He took his phone to call him, when an unfamiliar voice interrupted him.

"Hey Canuck, waitin' for someone?"

He turned around and saw a chestnut-haired guy with sunglasses. He was as tall as him, yet seemed more muscular. He was one of the players in the other team. Next to him there was a short Asian guy with strikingly odd-coloured eyes, almost red. Alarmed, Matthew stepped back a little.

"Perhaps..." he ansrewed, causing the taller one smirk.

"I see...ya pushed me in the rink, ya know?"

"I believe that's part of the game."

"Part of the game...heh, part of the game..." the guy laughed as he came closer. The Asian followed him. Suddenly the taller one stopped, giving a simple order to his mate.

"Get him, Kuro."

With movements to fast Matthew didn't have time to react, the Asian grabbed his arms and locked them behind his back so it was inpossible for him to use them. The small Asian, apparently called Kuro, was stronger than he looked, making Matthew unable to escape his grasp. The other guy laughed, and then him Matthew on his stomach.

"I think this is the punishment, don't ya think so too?" he said before hitting Matthew again.

**Oh my God a cliffhanger! OAO I'll give you a virtual slice of cheese if you can figure out who the two blokes in the end were.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again : D Another chapter is up. This was originally ment to be longer and have Alfred in it too, but after a few problems I gave up on that and went with this.**

**And the guys who are beating up Matt are 2p!America and 2p!Japan. I've seen 2p!Japan called Kuro a few times, and I named 2p!America Frank because he seems really Frank-y to me. Idonnononsense.**

**Also, Cuba makes an appearance as a cop! : D**

Matthew's arms were released, only so the guy who was holding him could move out of his way when he was pushed to the ground. Air escaped his lungs. His glasses flew off and the sunglass-guy stepped on them, crushing them into little pieces. He was completely helpless now, unable to see and call for help. He recieved a violent kick on his side.

"Frank, I think we shourd get going", the asian said on a nervous tone.

"Not yet! I want to beat the shit out of this fucker", the other one, apparently called Frank, ansrewed, kicking Matthew again. The Canadian tried to get up to escape, but Frank pinned him down by pressing a foot on his shoulder, laughing.

"Ya ain't going nowhere, man. Fuck, I wish I had brought my baseball bat..."

The brunette released Matthew's shoulder so he could use his foot for a kick again, this time even more forceful. Matthew's side was hurting, his chest was hurting, his back was hurting, and he had no escape. Breathing was hard, not to mention trying to speak. Two more kicks on his right side, then Frank kneeled down and yanked Matthew's hoodie, about to punch the Canadian right in the face with a victorious grin on his face.

"Oi! What the bloody hell you think you are doing!"

Even if Matthew couldn't see, he knew immeaditely who the comer was. Unbelievably furious footsteps came closer, distracting the attackers.

"Fuck off limey! This ain't no your business!"

"Oh this is my business. And don't use double negatives, you dirty yankee, people will notice how stupid you are", Arthur snarled back. Frank let go off Matthew and stood up, about to attack the Brit. Arthur was faster. His fist met Frank's face, and with a cry of pain he lost his balance. A red stream ran from his nose. There was a crack in his voice as he yelled back to the Brit.

"You fucking motherfucker! My nose! Fuck, you shitface!"

"Frank, ret's go", Kuro said and helped his mate up, pulling him away from Arthur.

"This ain't over ya mofo! I'll come for ya two fagbags, ya'll see!" the injured yankee yelled, holding his nose as they fled. Arthur kneeled down, helping Matthew get into a sitting position.

"Are you okay, Mattie?" he asked worriedly. The Canadian nodded, trying to breathe normally. It hurt like hell.

"We better get you some help. Can you walk?"

With a small nod Matthew whispered a yes. Arthur helped the younger one up, telling him to save his voice. The punk, leading Matthew by holding his hand, swore under his breath, something like "bloody fuckers are going to get their arses whipped".They went to look for someone who could check Matthew's injuries.

They were in the infarmary of the building. The nurse had said there were no serious injuries, only a few nasty bruises. A police was interrogating them, as shirtless Matthew held a bag of ice against his side, where there were the biggest blue-green mark. Arthur was leaning on a wall, obviously nervous and angry.

"So you believe the two boys who beat you up were called Frank and Kuro?" the police asked. He didn't look that police-y, with his dreadlocks and small beard, not that the blurred vision without glasses helped. Matthew mumbled a yes, still avoiding long sentences.

"Okay. So let me check the story you gave me. You were...searching for a signal because you had to make a phone call, and found it in that corner. There you had your encounter with those two. Mr. Kirkland heard that when he was passing you and came to see what was going on. Right?"

"Yes", both Matthew and Arthur ansrewed. They had made up a story to cover their relationship. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, lie to a police, but they weren't ready to tell about this to anyone. The officer seemed to eat it up. He sighed and stood up, smiling warmly at Matthew.

"Well, thank you for your help, both of you. I'll go to the station and see what I can do about this. Take care, kid", he said and left the room, leaving Arthur and Matthew alone. The punk scooted to the Canadian, smiling a little as he sat next to him on the bed.

"I'm sorry for not coming earlier."

"Nah, it's not your fault. Leave it."

"No really. I should've come earlier, if I had this whole thing could've been avoided. If only I had not been stuck in the bloody crowd..."

"Arthur, it's not your fault. It was just bad luck", Matthew tried to comfort him. He had to cough a little for saying so much, he still hadn't quite recovered from the loss of air. Arthur took his hand, squeezing it lightly. A blush creeped on his cheecks.

"I have been nothing but bad luck for you. First you had that fight with the bloody Frog, and now this...who knows what will be."

"I don't care. It's about time for something to happen in my life, it has been quite boring actually", Matthew ansrewed, smiling carefully. Arthur snickered lightly.

"You're a bloody masochist."

"I've thought so myself too."

"I shouldn't be complaining though, I'm the one who gets the prize", Arthur purred and turned his gaze to Matthew, a wider smile on his face than before. The younger one lifted his eyebrow.

"The prize? Isn't that a nice compliment."

"Don't whine about it", the Brit said with a slight string of annoyance in his voice, making Matthew chuckle.

"Fine, fine. Do it the way you want."

"You bet I will", he was ansrewed and then pulled into a kiss. Arthur had his arm on Matthew's shoulder, gently pulling the Canadian closer to him. He could taste the Brit's rum, mixed with a weird combination of mint, oddly enough it wasn't too bad. Letting the icebag fall on the floor, Matthew wrapped his arm around Arthur's waist. A muffled yelp escaped the Britons mouth, turning into a smirk. As their lips parted, the punk was slightly red, being the blusher he was.

"Dammit, your muscles are just fucking sexy."

"Oh, so you're just after my body then?" Matthew asked jokingly. Arthur slid his hand along his arm, caressing the muscles carefully. His smirk grew even wider.

"It is a nice body, I have to say. But I do like other things about you too."

"Well isn't that nice."

"You know, you don't seem that sarcastic at first."

"Usually I am not in a situation like this. Not just beaten, but I mean all of this. It kinda makes you act like that."

Arthur laughed a bit, then kissed Matthew's forehead.

"Your parents are propably going to be here soon, I should get going."

"Yeah...Too bad."

Arthur's hand slipped into Matthew's as the room fell quiet. For a minute they were like that, staying silent. Then Arthur jumped of the bed and their hands parted.

"I'll call you later. See ya", he said, smiled that oh-so-polite smile of his and left the room. With no Arthur to distract him, Matthew hit himself on the head to let the bag of ice fall. As it was, his bruise was hurting like hell now.

**I don't know when the next chapter is up. I don't even know what's going to be in it actually...maybe something from Arthur's P.O.V.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again! Another chapter of this thing! And guess what! It's over 10000 words now! WHOOT! I feel so proud of myself, my little baby is growing~ So this chapter is from Arthur's P.O.V, introducing his older brother Alistair (Scotland). Also something from his past. Dammit, I feel like this story is going more and more angsty and drama every time I update...shit. Not what I wanted...but screw it, MAPLETEAAAAAAAA~ Also, I can't write Scottish accent to die for. Yet I can't get myself to care enough...hahah.**

Arthur was passing his phone from one hand to another, clearly nervous. His hands were sweating, making the black Nokia slippery. He was sitting on his bed, leaning slighty forward legs crossed. Over and over again, he went through different patterns of conversation, trying to figure out every possible scenario that might come up. Sure, that was a little paranoid, but then again who knew about it? It wasn't going to harm anyone if he did that.

The cellphone slipped from his hands, falling onto the covers of the bed. With a sigh, Arthur picked it up and wiped it so it wouldn't fall again. Then, he carefully pressed 4, the speed dial he had set for Matthew.

After three beeps the Canadian's soft voice ansrewed, making the Englishman smile like a teengirl.

"Hey, Arthur."

"'ello Mattie. How have you been hanging?"

"I'm okay. My parents are overreacting about this."

"Really? How? I mean, I understand why, you were attacked...but what do you mean overreacting?"

"Hmh, they are planning to stricten the rules so Al and I will be safe", Matthew explained, slight sound of irritation in his voice.

"What? I don't understand. How would that help?"

"Beats me."

"Your parents have a weird sense of logic."

"I know. I tried to ask them how they came up with the conclusion that stricter rules will give us safety, but they shunned me for 'talking back'."

Arthur snorted.

"Can't see how an adult mind works."

"I just wish it's not hederitary. Or if it is, Al has got it all."

Both of them laughed a little. After that the conversation was half-useless small talk, which Arthur enjoyed every bit, loving the smooth, whisper-like voice of Matthew. Under the hard outside, he was a romantic person, even if had troubles showing it. Matthew seemed to bring up more of that side of him, turning Arthur's cheeks red every now and then.

Like all good things, this phonecall had to come to an ending. Alfred, that oh-so-annoying brother Matthew had, decided it was time for them to have a game or two with his beloved Xbox, and of course Mattie had to go along with that if they wanted to keep their relationship as a secret. A fast good-bye was exchanged before the Canadian hanged up, leaving Arthur sit on his bed restless. He wished to have had more time to talk with Matthew, get to know every last bit of him and likewise, but the world seemed to go against his will. Then again, it often did so.

Arthur lived with his older brother, Alistair. Their parents were in Great Britain, engaged with work, having very little time of their own. Alistair, being an independent nature, decided to leave UK and go explore the world. He had settled in this small town of Hetalia about two years ago. When things home grew tense, Arthur decided to follow his brother's lead and moved in with him after a year. There was five years of age difference, Alistair being 23 and Arthur 17. They weren't the friendliest of brothers, but they got along well enough. New life in Hetalia gave Arthur a cold start, other kids of his age leaving him alone in school and many even to be afraid of him. Maybe it was his fault, his style of clothing was often viewed as intimidating and violent, and his "cheerful" nature wasn't helpful either. Especially when he told most off most of the students and teachers.

Then there was Francis, another piece of shit in his life. The minute they met in their first class, they both felt it; that dislike what you feel in your guts, when they tell you to hate someone even though you don't know why. Arthur found out it later, after a party his class held to celebrate their first semester over (and of course, being a party for the class, they had to invite Arthur, and Arthur had to come, even though no one really was fond of it), when the situation got rolling after a beer or two, leading to one of the biggest mistakes in his life.

But this thing he had going on with Matthew, he really wanted to keep it. It felt so good, after all the shit he had gone through. It was like a delicate flower, it could bloom beautifully if you took care of it, but it could also wilth and die.

There were so many things he liked in Matthew; the way he played with his glasses when he was nervous, that sweet blush of his, that curl which refused to go along with the rest of his hair and kept falling on his face, that passive-aggressive nature which attacked when you didn't pay attention, and that body...damn, he loved those muscles of a hockey player. So many things he could not even name even if he had all the time in the world.

But there was a knot in his stomach; he was the reason why there were crappy things happening at him. Matthew had lost a friend (even if the friend was Arthur's worst enemy) and the incident after the game...he wanted to throw up. Never it had ran in his mind that that kind of thing could happen.

"Bloody idiot", he huffed at himself and fell on his back, shutting his eyes. He was a shitmagnet, making bad things happen around him.

His door opened, revieling Alistair with an unlight cigarette between his lips and red hair messy-as-ever. His brother looked cranky, and he propably was. It ran in the family, a non-stop irritated mood.

"Ye going to eat? Food is gettin' cold", he mumbled and nodded towards their kitchen. Arthur stood up, snarling "coming, coming" and followed Alistair to the table. A plateful of soup waited for him, with a odd odour filling the room. Neither of the brothers seemed to mind, when it came to food and the smells of it, they were utterly numb. They sat rather quietly while eating, though Alistair stared at his little brother curiously. At first Arthur ignored it, but being the anxious person he is he finally grew tired of it.

"Stop looking at me. Do you want something?" he snapped, meeting the eyes of his brother. They were as green as his, yet his gaze was slightly more relaxed. Alistair leaned back on his chair, eyeing his cigarette which was laying on the table.

"Ye've been cheerful lately."

"And...?"

"Ye usually are not."

"Well no shit. Your point is?"

Now leaning forward, Alistair locked his eyes on Arthur's. The Brit could feel a slight blush rising on his cheeks. His brother was catching up on his secret.

"Care to tell mi why?"

It really wasn't a question or a request. Alistair simply stated he wanted to know what was going on, and Arthur_ had_ to tell him, whether he wanted or not. The blonde stayed quiet, thinking of a possible escape or a snarky comeback, failing at both.

"Well?"

"It's not your bloody business", he spat out, turning his gaze away. Alistair smirked unamused.

"The last time I checked, ye were living under mi roof. That means ye go by mi rules. And that means ye have to ansrew mi. So, Arthur, what is going on?" he asked again. Arthur swore under his breath, keeping his eyes away from his brothers.

"I'm fucking dating", he huffed, waiting for more questions. Suprisingly, Alistair remained silent.

"What? Aren't you going to interrogate me more?"

"No need to. I got what I wanted", Alistair said calmly, returning to eating. Almost shocked for his easy release, it was Arthur's turn to stare.

"What the hell? Are you really letting me this easy? Do you have a bloody trap for me waiting?" he fumed, amazed how his cranky big brother stayed extremely calm. He didn't even bother to look up, as if he was afraid his soup was going to be stolen.

"Ney. Ye can tell mi if ye feel so. Not that I care too much."

Slightly hurt now, Arthur decided he wanted to make Alistair even a little pissed, even though he propably would regret it later.

"Don't you even want to know who it is?"

"Names dinnae matter, I dinnae know any lassies from yer school."

A smirk appeared on Arthur's face.

"Who said it was a lassie?"

Apparently Arthur's life was now more interesting than the food that layed before Alistair, the older brother looked up in suprise.

"It's a lad?"

"Aye."

Alistair didn't seem to find any words, or his thoughts, and Arthur felt a slight wawe of pridth in his chest. He managed to shock his brother for good now, didn't he?

Finally remembering how to think and speak, Alistair ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

"Ach, I certainly dinnae see that one comin'."

The flat fell silent when the older tried to figure what to say next. A root of nervousity grew in Arthur's stomach; what if Alistair got angry? They had never talked about this before, they didn't have the need to. What would happen to him?

Before Arthur could regret his actions, Alistair's eyes returned to the soup and his hand picked up the spoon.

"Well, what happens happens", he said on a calm tone and continued eating, leaving Arthur baffled.

**Yeah I don't know either. Or do I? Whatever. No idea what is going to happen next.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yo! Merry X-mas! I had a slight writer's block...So I got rid of it today. I decided to write according to a random song, no matter what it would be (and that is a risk, concidering the songs I have here..."First time", "German Sparkle Party", "Black Leather", "Why can't I touch it", "The Wolwerines are coming"... I put on my Media Player Suffle mode, and guess what? Katy Perry's "Ur so Gay" started playing. Instantly I was like "POLAND" and this happened. Enjoy~ And of course, I had to add some drama...**

Two weeks had they managed to keep their relationship as a secret, if you ignored the fact that Alistair knew. He didn't seem to give a single fuck though; that bothered Arthur slightly. He had kind of waited for his older brother to freak out, like he usually did even when he really didn't have a good reason. Francis still hadn't spoke with Matthew; he avoided the junior like he was a deadly disease. It was uncertain whether or not the Frenchman had a hunch about this. He wasn't exactly a stupid person even if he may first seem like it. Unlike Alfred, Francis could connect these pieces of this puzzle easily.

Alfred in the other hand, Matthew was getting worried. Not because the other twin might guess what was happening; the complete opposite. A few close calls, like texting to Arthur or accidentally mentioning something that might give him off, had occured, but either the blonde didn't notice or he believed what Matthew lied. And those lies, they weren't the smartest. "It was a joke between me and Tino" or "Arthur is someone I met online, he lives in New Zealand", really?. Still, Alfred did buy everything he was told. Was he really that stupid?

He didn't have time to think about that though. They had to do pair up with someone for a history class project, and his options had run to few. Most of the students had immeaditely went for their friends, and the shy boy was forgotten. His friends or his brother weren't on this class, and he knew only a few people. None of them were now free, so he just gave up and waited for the teacher to tell who his pair would be or someone voluntarily to come to him. Not that it was likely to happen.

Miracles do happen though; a blonde, thin boy with clothes so-bright coloured they would even make the Sun blind, sat next to him.

"Hey, Matthew, can you like, be my partner? These dorks have totally ignored me", Feliks smiled to him. Slightly startled, Matthew muttered a "yes" and moved his chair so Feliks would have more room.

The subject was WWII, something Matthew knew rather well. He had always been into that era for a reason or another. Feliks seemed rather excited too, but for different reasons.

"Hey, did you know the Poles used ponies in WWII? Like, how cool is that!"

"Uh, really cool..."

"Is it like, okay for you if you tell me what to write and I like, just write? Because I'm totally lost with the numbers and years", Feliks interrupted him and opened his pink notebook (which had "Hipster" written on it), giving Matthew a very little room to choose.

"Eh, sure, we can do it that way."

Matthew looked for the ansrews from the book and Feliks scribbled them down. The usually very talkative fell somewhat silent, still babbling from time to time about warponies and got very excited every time Poland was mentioned in the book. The Canadian felt how curiousity grew in his stomach; how exactly this guy had got together with Natalia? They were from two completely different worlds. Natalia was cold and aloof, like ice, and Feliks...he was from Candyland. Finally he had to ask.

"So...you and Natalia are dating."

"Y-yeah", Feliks stuttered a little, a faint blush on his cheeks. Matthew raised an eyebrow. Why such reaction?

"How did you two actually...you know, why?"

Feliks bit his lip nervously and leaned back a little. He sighed carefully and locked his gaze on the notebook.

"Err, it just kinda happened. Like, I don't know. It was just like that", he said in a quiet voice. Matthew could tell there was more to this than Feliks was saying. The need to know what was going on between the two of them grew even bigger.

"Really?" he asked neutrally. Feliks didn't ansrew. Matthew decided to push him a little. Sure, he was a nice guy, who didn't do any harm to anyone, but lately he had been under "a bad influence" and in the end, he just wanted to know. Who was going to get hurt?

"No offense, but you are not the most likely pair there could be. I mean, Natalia seems to be more fond of a jock-type and you aren't exactly that. More like, uhn..." he tried to find the right word, but Feliks kindly assisted.

"Gay."

"Well n-"

"Yes. Gay."

The Pole now met Matthew's eyes. They were serious as ever, and the realization hit him.

"You-"

"Yes."

"Oh..."

"She's my cover. She knows, we made a deal. We're friends, and Nat owes me one. I totally don't want to be the hottest rumour so she helps me. You know how hard it can be to be gay in a place like this", Feliks explained. The Canadian blushed.

"What do you mean, 'you know'?" he whispered, now feeling alarmed instead of curious. Had someone found out? Feliks simply smiled.

"Gay radar", he ansrewed. Matthew eyed the room, to see if anyone was looking at them or listening. Fortunately everyone seemed to be engaged with their own work.

"Was it that obvious?" he whispered. Feliks snorted.

"Oh please, I notice these things. Others may be totally blind, but I am not. You totally eye Arthur every time he walks past you! And he does it too. You totally have something going on", the Pole ansrewed on a very quiet voice. Matthew blushed.

"I-I didn't realize someone would notice..."

"No worries! I'm totally going to be quiet. That is, like, if you are quiet too."

"Deal."

"Good. And now that I like, remember, I just gotta ask this. Where did you get that black eye? You know, two weeks ago?"

"A small fight, nothing else. I prefer not to talk about it", Matthew quickly passed the subject. He had been questioned for it too many times already. Never did he give the actual story. Feliks didn't ask anymore and they went back on their project.

Arthur had decided to skip his literature class. Last week he had had an argument with the teacher and preferred not to go back there. It wasn't his fault, the idiot had mocked his favourite author. He simply corrected him. Now the teacher propably hated him. Not that he cared too much, he had never been so fond of the man.

Too lazy to walk home, he decided to stay at school grounds waiting for Matthew. He had gone to the dumpsters again, and was now passing his phone from one hand to another to kill time sitting on one of the trashes.

"Arthur."

A voice all-too familiar echoed in his ears. He chose not to turn his head, he knew already what he was going to see.

"What's up, Francis?" he said in a friendly tone which was dripping sarcasm. He did not need this right now.

"Don't you 'Francis' me."

"Then don't you 'Arthur' me."

"Hilarious. Really."

"Fuck it. What do you want?"

Francis had walked to him now, arms crossed as if he tried to look frightening. He was failing. It took a lot more than just a pretty boy with smooth hair and expensive clothes to intimidate Arthur. The punk jumped of the bin to face his classmate. They were equal in term of height, having them eye-to-eye. The Frenchman had an angry expression on his usually oh-so-charming face.

"I want you to stay the fuck away from Matthieu", he growled. Arthur had expected that.

"What if I don't?"

"Then you will have to face the concsequenses."

"And who would be against me in that situation? You? I don't know how much braincells you have under that mop you call hair of yours, but I am propably stronger than you are", he smirked, provoking Francis to do something. The Frenchman flinched, but controlled himself.

"I have power. I can put the whole school against you."

"They already are, if you haven't noticed."

"I can double it. I can make them hate you."

"See if I bloody care."

They stared at each other, waiting for the other to turn their gaze away. Neither did.

"I'm not going to let you harm Matthieu."

"What? Jealous? How lovely."

"You wish."

"I think we both know who's the one wishing for that", Arthur hissed. Francis tensed, clenching his fists. How nice it would be to bury one in the Brit's face...

"Casse-toi", he snarled and turned away. He couldn't violate the Brit even if he wanted it so bad. The best thing would be to leave, let the punk be in his kingdom of garbage. He started walking away, but Arthur's voice stopped him.

"Frog."

"What?"

"I am not the one who is hurting Matthew. I am not the one who hasn't spoken to him for two weeks."

Furious, Francis walked away. He was not going to let the Brit win this, oh no.

**Someone is mad! Can anyone else smell the tension between those two?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello and SORRYSORRYSORRY for long gap between updates! I had problems with the chapter! But it's here now! And it's quite useless! : D (fuckfuckfuckfuck) So here's some useless fluffish-stuff and then something different. Also, blowjobs are being talked about.**

"What is that?" Matthew asked, pointing at the rectangular thing Arthur had hidden under his shirt the minute the Canadian had walked in the cafe.

"Nothing", the punk ansrewed quickly, blushing madly. Matthew raised an eyebrow and smiled as he sat opposite to his boyfriend.

"Sure, and my name is Avril Lavigne. What is it?"

"It's nothing, really! Just a school book."

"Then why are you hiding it?"

"...because...you're not allowed to see it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's for the students who are on their second year in high school. Not you."

"What's it about?"

"I can't tell you."

"You act like a child."

"Do not!" Arthur opposed. He hated when someone claimed he acted childlishly, even if it was Matthew. He knew it was what the Canadian was aiming for; him to get mad and accidentally blurt it. And he also knew it was very likely to happen, Matthew was surprisingly sly.

"Do too. What is it? And don't tell me it's a school book, I'm not eating that one", the younger one smiled, and Arthur swore he could see a hint of sheer evil on his lips.

"I don't have to tell you", he tried to save himself, though it was hopeless. During these three weeks they had spent together, the tough-batshit-crazy-I'll-kill-you-any-minute-now-image of Arthur had slipped, and Matthew had noticed that the punk was just pure vanilla.

Usually, that was.

Anyhow, the Canadian knew exactly what strings he needed to pull to get Arthur to give up. And Arthur knew he knew.

"Is it Twilight?" Matthew asked, snorting lightly. Arthur scoffed.

"For God's sake, no! I do have my pride, thank you very much."

"Then it can't be bad. You can show it to me, you know?"

"You're going to laugh."

"I promise I won't."

"You will laugh, I know you will."

"I won't. Just show it already", Matthew said, twining their ankles together, making Arthur blush (just when he had gotten rid of the previous one!). The Briton rolled his eyes in defeat, and slammed the book on the table. He didn't look at his boyfriend, he didn't have to. He knew exactly what his facial expression was.

"House of Night...Marked...", Matthew read out the title, and bursted into a laughing fit. Arthur kicked him under the table.

"You read teen romance!"

"Shut it", he hissed, embrassed. The Canadian couldn't even face Arthur, when he tried he began to laugh even harder.

"It's not mine, it's a present for my cousin", Arthur explained.

"Yeah, sure", Matthew managed to say, hiding his grin with his fist to not laugh more. Arthur frowned.

"I'm not lying, she loves this series and I happened to find a copy. So I bought it for her, and because you were taking so bloody long I read a few pages to kill some time. That's it."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

Arthur knew Matthew did his best to suffocate his laughter, but it was proving to be difficult. He couldn't blame him though, anyone would've laughed in that situation.

"So what's the book about?" the younger one asked, smiling in amusement. Arthur blushed again and rolled his eyes.

"Vampires and some teen drama. In a bloody private school for vampires. Quite ridiculous. I can't see what my cousin sees in this."

"You seemed to be quite interested in it though", Matthew teased, nudging Arthur under the table. The Brit gave him a dry look.

"It was only because some girl was giving some bloke a blowjob."

Now the Canadian's eyes widened, and he glanced the book quickly.

"What? In a novel for teenagers?"

"Yup. You can check it if you don't believe me."

"I'd rather not..."

"What is it? Afraid of written porn?" Arthur smirked. Now it was his turn to be the teaser. Matthew blushed adorably and began to stutter.

"N-no! It's not like that...I mean, i-it's a girl's book! S-some cheesy relationship crap and fashion, no way I will touch that book!"

"Oh, are you perhaps uncertain of your manhood? Afraid that this book will turn you into a girl?"

"Fuck no! I'm just not interested in that shit. Even if it has blowjobs", Matthew huffed and leaned back on the chair, crossing his arms. Arthur chuckled and leaned over the table, smirking in triumph.

"Hey Mattie", he muttered, careful not to raise his voice too much. The Canadian ansrewed slightly annoyed.

"What?"

"I can show you how the scene escalated in that book...if you show me your manhood."

Arthur's tacky joke was rewarded with a forceful kick from the other side of the table.

* * *

Francis didn't like Arthur that way. Infact, he loathed the Brit. If he had the choice of make one person disappear from the world, he would've chosen Arthur. Every inch of the punk was detestable; his clothes, his language, his horrid eyebrows, and his terrifying hair, they were disgusting.

So why was that he felt so angry when Matthew was with Arthur, _that way_?

Jealousy.

He had heard of people suffering of it, yet he had never felt it himself. He was used to be the cause of it, though. But now, that dark feeling burning his chest, the want to separate the two of them, it was jealousy. At first he had tought it was him wanting to protect Matthew from trouble, but it didn't take so long for him to realize it was _Arthur_ he was trying to protect. But from what? Matthew was as dangerous as a feather, he was far too kind and good to be a real threath for Francis. The Frenchman was, after all, personification of sex and beauty.

Yet Arthur seemed to want Matthew instead of him.

It was eating him. The Canadian was his friend, Francis held him dear; but ever since they had had their talk he wanted to smash Matthew's face. He didn't like it, it was wrong. Matthew had done nothing wrong, the only thing wrong was Francis and his messed up jealousy.

No matter what, he couldn't help but feel a desire to get Arthur for himself like he had got him once before.

* * *

**Oh dearsies, shit just got deeper.**

**House of Night is a real book series, and that blowjob really happens! I recommend the series if you are up to some teen drama, vampires, superpowers and crying (+porn). : D**


	10. Chapter 10

**A quick update :D Be happy, bitches. The reason why I did this so quick was that I have been planning this chapter ever since chapter 2. I hope it's good. It's sure is long in comparison to the previous one...But anywhore. Shit actually happens in this chapter. FINALLY.**

**I feel sorry for Francis...I kinda made him the bad guy in this story even though I didn't mean to.**

**Oh yes, Tino is slightly homophobic. : D**

"And then Manon gave me chocolate~ It tasted so good, she had made it herself actually! She's such a nice girl", Antonio rambled, oblivious to the fact that Francis was not paying any attention. The two of them were in the school cafeteria looking for a free table to sit at. It was proving to be rather difficult, as the room was crowded (a rare sight in that particular cafeteria).

"Oh look, there's Alfred and Matthew! Shall we join them?" the Spaniard asked, index finger pointing towards a small table with the twins sitting on either sides of it. Like everyone else, Antonio was blissfully unaware of the drama between Francis, Arthur and Matthew.

"Uh, it looks like Alfred is in the middle of his superhero-nonsense again if it's to believe by the movements of his hands (and rest of the body aswell). I am not in the mood for that right now", Francis made up an excuse. Antonio bought it.

"Yeah, whatever you wish. I wonder why all of the superheros are American..." the chatty Spaniard began another monologue, letting Francis drift in his toughts. Suddenly he felt a tug on his sleeve, startling him.

"Look, there's a spot! Quick, let's go before someone steals it!" Antonio said and began to drag Francis towards an empty table. The Frenchman shook his head to get back in his senses, and gently yanked his sleeve of Antonio's grip.

"Oui, oui, I can walk there by myself, mon ami", he stuttered and flipped his hair of his eyes. He followed his friend in the maze of tables and students, careful not to bump to anyone.

And it was then when he noticed that lawlessly messy blonde hair, that green denim jacket with badges and black paint, and that aura of pride and rebellion that belonged to no other than Arthur Kirkland himself, directly infront of his way towards the table Antonio had spotted. Every step, the gap between the Brit and him lessened, every step made him ache more. Francis felt an evil twist inside him, and an absolutely heartless and devilish plan formed in his mind.

Antonio passed Arthur (he probably didn't even notice him; must be a blessing to be so oblivious), continuing his way towards the free spot. Francis howerer, he stopped, and placed his hand on Arthur's boney shoulder. The punk flinched by the unexpected contact, and turned around an annoyed look in his eyes, which only grew when he realized it was Francis who had touched him.

"Frog, what do you want?" he snarled and slapped the Frenchman's hand away (certainly not caring whether or not Francis got hurt). The other's blank expression didn't crack the slightest.

Those vibrations of heavy loathe and hate reached the other students surrounding them, making heads turn to see what was going nudged their friends, more eyes attaching on Francis and Arthur, voices ceasing little by little. Whispers were heard, such as "Shit is about to go down", and "Twenty for Kirkland". Francis waited, waited for the moment when his words would be audible so the whole cafeteria and then he'd strike.

And then the moment came.

His tone was dead, calm and still, yet dripping jealousy and pleasure of victory, creating an invisible smirk that never was seen on Francis' lips.

"Hey Arthur, is Matthew a good kisser?"

* * *

It was out.

Everyone had heard it.

Every single one of the pupils had heard it.

Everyone.

It was out.

They were out.

_There wasn't anyone else named Matthew in their school._

Suddenly the large, crowded room fell completely silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone, just everyone, was staring at Francis and Arthur (and the few people who remembered who Matthew actually was, him). Arthur stiffened. From the corner of his left eye, he saw Matthew, face white as a ghost, and Alfred whose expression was utterly shocked. Some of the pupils had began their whispering again. Arthur couldn't hear what they were saying, but he didn't have to. He knew exactly their words.

Francis' eyes were blank, his face was blank, but you could see a faint, but oh-so smug hint of a smile on lips, mocking Arthur.

Daring him to do something he would surely regret.

_God, how he hated the Frog._

Never breaking the eye contact they had shared since he had turned around, the Brit stood up, facing Francis properly. He paused his movements to focus his anger, his detest towards that hateful, poofy, ridiculous, irritating French manwhore, a pathetic excuse for a human being, and inhaled as calmly as he could.

He clenched his fist, exhaling.

And then he punched Francis as hard as he could.

* * *

There was a loud gasp, instantly followed by panicky voices, some whispers, some audible words. The eyes remained on Arthur and Francis, but there was a new glint now, something primitive.

Excitement?

The Frenchman was holding his nose, a mad spark in his blue orbs. It was similar to satisfaction, in a sick, twisted way. It was gone though, when Francis noticed the red stream that fell on his blue shirt, dirtying it with blood. So Arthur had given him a nose bleed. That wouldn't be good. The spark reformed into rage and Francis went for a counter attack. They both fell on the floor, turning the scene into a full-fledged fight, both wrestling and screaming, trying to grab a hold of the other. The silence around them disappeared, now some of the boys were cheering, repeating the blood thirsty mantra "Fight, fight, fight, blood and bones", some of the girls were begging them to stop, some of the rest were just staring. The attention was focused on those two, hungry for bruises.

There was an exception though.

Alfred, not the slightest interested in the fight, had fixed his eyes on his twin, mouth open. Matthew's stomach twisted; it was out now. He was going to die now.

"M-Matt?" Alfred stuttered, voice uncharacteristically weak. The Canadian didn't say a word, he didn't even move. He wanted to run, run away as quickly as he could.

Feliks' words echoed in his mind.

_I totally don't want to be the hottest rumour._

_You know how hard it can be to be gay in a place like this._

He was fucked now.

Suddenly the voices ceased, like they had hit a wall. The teachers had separated Arthur and Francis, both having two adults keeping them away from each other's throats. Their clothes had blood stains, and they had injuries on their faces (probably more under their clothers). Their bodies screamed murder.

"Mister Kirkland and Mister Bonnefoy! How many times you must be told fighting is probihited?! What was the reason this time?" their far-too-snappy and up-tight English teacher Mrs. Smith (also known as Old Floortit) boomed, glaring her students angrily. Neither of them ansrewed, they were too busy trying to kill each other with looks.

"Why were you fighting?" Mrs. Smith repeated, still not receiving an explanation. The teacher sighed, irritation dripping from the exhale.

"If you two refuse to cooperate, I will ask your fellow students. Would anyone be kind enough to explain the situation?"

Sure, Old Floortit was a frightening person, but not frightening enough. The youngsters remained quiet. Mrs. Smith facepalmed.

"Fine. Since my authority doesn't seem to be enough, I will take you to the head teacher's office so he can pull out your pitiful explanations. Needless to say, it's detention for both of you two hooligans. Now follow me, I will take you to the school nurse and then to the office", she said, motioning Arthur and Francis to follow. Not having much of a choice, they followed her out of the cafeteria, glaring each other murderously. As soon as they were out of the sight, the students were talking again. Suddenly people seemed to remember who exactly Matthew was, and heads turned towards him.

Again. The whispering. The looks. The guttural twist in Matthew's stomach. It was a tortorous combo, yet nothing in comparison to Alfred's confused face, his twin who was desperately trying to figure put what the hell was going on. He looked so strange, weak, so unlike Alfred. It was terrifying.

"Matt...what was that about...?" he whispered, voice trembling. Matthew didn't want to ansrew, he knew he had to, Al was his twin.

"I...", he began, but the words didn't come out, as if there was a lump in his throat, suffocating him. The looks were drilling holes in his back, as if Alfred's wasn't enough.

"Are you..." Alfred spoke, trying to ask something, but couldn't form it into a question. Matthew knew what he meant though. He closed his eyes, trying to block everything outside. He wished, oh how he wished, this all to be a nightmare, but when he opened his eyes again it was all there, far too real for his taste. Matthew forced himself to ansrew the question Alfred didn't know how to ask.

"I'm dating Arthur."

A terrible silence between them filled the air. Matthew knew the other student's couldn't hear them, but it didn't help too much. He felt weak in the head, certain he would faint soon.

"...How long?" Alfred finally asked.

"One month."

And then there was nothing except that horrifying twist in Matthew's stomach, growing stronger every second. Alfred was trying to say something, opening and closing his mouth again and again, not letting any noise.

It was all too much for the Canadian.

He stood up, and walked fast out of the room, doing his best to ignore the burning looks he was recieving. He saw Katyusha, a sad look in her eyes, pity, that was, Feliks, messaging "I'm sorry" with his green orbs, Tino, shocked, all those looks. He rushed to the nearest bathroom, luckily an empty one, and opened the door of one stall and knelt down.

Then he threw up, a few salty tears escaping from the corners of his eyes.

* * *

Matthew was his brother.

His twin brother.

Alfred stood up.

* * *

"Fuck", Matthew rasped, feeling another wawe of sick coming. He barfed, desperate to get the twist out. The disgusting odour rose to his nose, making him frown.

"Are ya okay?"

Alfred's voice echoed from behind him. Matthew turned his head, meeting the blue eyes of his twin. Al had sat next to him, smiling carefully.

"I think so", he ansrewed, burping. "Why are you here?"

"To make sure my bro is allright, of course."

Matthew chuckled.

"You're an idiot."

"That's not nice to say for someone who shares your genes."

"An idiot nontheless."

Alfred ansrewed with a hum and a grin.

"So, you're gay?"

Aaaaand of course, he was straightforward. As usual. Somehow, that made Matthew feel better.

"Kinda...more bi, I think."

"I see. Arthur...I didn't see that one coming."

"I can assure you, neither did I."

There was a quiet moment, Matthew thinking.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked, kind of afraid of the ansrew. Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, I came to see you puke. I'm talking to you. Of course I'm allright with this."

They both smiled. Matthew felt how the twist disappeared completely.

"Come on, let's get you some water. Your breath stinks", Al said laughingly and stood up, helping his brother up aswell.

**I want a twin too D: So yeah, I felt kinda bad after torturing Matthew so I wanted some brofluff. I AM FAR TOO NICE TO FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.**

**Next chapter will be awesome. Or I hope so. It will take me a while to write though.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi. It's been a while since the last update. (Again) I had problems with the chapter. And guess what...this thing has already 69 (haha) followers and 40 favourites. It's just...wow. This isn't even good, MapleTea isn't a popular pairing but still...wow. I have to thank you all for everything and stuff like that...*blush*I don't like the roll of this chapter too much, but it's necessary. EVERYTHING IS.**

**Other things, there will not be too many chapters after this. Maybe five, six at most. I have hard times coming up with new events, and writing them down becomes harder and harder. I have new ideas for fanfics that I am desperate to get to use, but I want to finish this thing first. There will be more MapleTea from me, I promise that! This fanfic has made me love it more than I could imagine, it's my second OTP. But anyways, onto the chapter.**

"Ye look like shit", Alistair announced when he walked into the headmaster's office where there already were Arthur, the headmaster himself, Francis and Francis' father. He always had been oh-so-subtle...especially in the kind of situations where you had to be careful, for example picking up your younger brother from the school after he has been in a fight.

Oh, that happened to be now.

Jolly buggers.

Mr. Bonnefoy didn't even look at Alistair, nor did he look anywhere. He looked like he was bored to death, but no wonder. How many times had they been here because of Arthur and Francis fighting? No one remembered.

"Good day, Mr. Kirkland. Please sit down", Mr. Stein (nicknamed Legolas), their principal, motioned Alistair to sit on a green plastic chair next to Arthur, a stern look on his face. The redhead did what was told, and took his usual place between his brother and Mr. Bonnefoy. Arthur didn't look at him, he was too busy glaring at the table. His eye was black, and there were small scars on his other cheek, probably a scratch. Francis wasn't any better; his nose was larger than usually, and stains of blood were on his shirt. Mr. Stein began his speach, which had been heard too many times before.

"Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy, Arthur and Francis were caught fighting-"

"Again", the three men said simultaneously. Someone might have found it funny, but not them. It had lost its effect around the 7th time (which was ages ago).

"Yes, and as we all know", the headmaster glared at the two students, quiet yet murderous as ever, "fights are not allowed in this school, or any other. There will be consequinces if this rule is broken."

"Yeah, yeah, on we go. Just give the lads detention and that should do it for a while", Alistair said, earning a nasty look from Mr. Stein.

"Mr. Kirkland, we have to move on to bigger punishments than detention because that seems to have lost its effect on these two. If neither of you, or more likely both of you since you seem to be quite keen on each other, are seen fighting, you will be expelled."

Both Francis and Arthur flinched, lifting their eyes on the headmaster. Had they really gone this far?

* * *

"So whose fault was it this time?" Alistair asked almost non-chalantly and started the car. It answered with a coughy roar. Arthur remained silent.

"Come on, don't be such a lassie. Just spit it out and move on with yer life."

Still, no answer from the blonde. Alistair shook his head and reversed to get from the parking spot.

"It can't be that bad. Ye've fought so much ye'd think ye have ran out of reasons already. Was it the usual, Francis happened to look poofy?"

"Not the usual at all."

Ah, finally, a little bit of life. This was good, he was beginning to open up. Just a small push and that should do it.

"What was it then?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Ye have to."

"No I don't."

"But ye do. I am yer big brother, so ye must do what I say."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"It does. Now shut up and tell mi what's wrong."

"I can't do both-"

"Ye know what I mean. Don't be such a bitch."

"I'm n-"

"Ye are, and that's final."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Talk about a supportive brother. He still refused to tell what was going on. Not that Alistair would give up that easily. He overtook a blue Ford, and returned to pestering Arthur.

"Was it about your mystery love?"

The younger one flinched, turning his head to see Alistair.

"How did you guess?" he asked, annoyance making his cheeks reddish. Alistair shrugged.

"It wasn't the usual", he said, and casually flipped the bird to the same Ford he had overtaken as it speeded past them. Arthur frowned and looked away flustered.

"So will ye now tell mi what happened or will I beat it out of ye?"

"How about this: I will not tell and you will shut up."

"Wasn't in the options."

"See if I care."

Silence fell to the car. Alistair stopped talking, but kept glancing to see Arthur's blushing face.

Of course, that annoyed Arthur greatly.

Curse on big siblings for knowing the perfect ways of annoying the shit out of your system.

"His name is Matthew."

* * *

Matthew knew it was going to be a hell to go to school after yesterday's incident.

He had expected to be stared, whispers surrounding him where ever he went, weird looks, being called "a poof", "fag", and that sort of things, his friends avoiding him, general awkwardness, possibly even physical violence. He had prepared for that; he could cope it. He had to cope it.

It turned out to be lot worse.

Instead of everything he had been dreading for, he met silence. Utter, unbreakable, perfect silence that seemed to form a barrier around him, muting everyone he passed. No "poofs", no "fags", no "want some dick in your ass".

Nothing.

Not even a single "hello".

It was eerie to hear everything so clearly. The air conditioning humming, the ruffling of the clothes, the ticking of the clock, the footsteps from across the room, the books moving in the backpacks, the breathing- every sound seemed to be so _there_, making Matthew shiver.

He knew exactly why the silence was there. Everyone thought Arthur was a batshit-crazy bastard who would beat the living shit out of them if they said something wrong. They thought Matthew would tell him if someone called him a fag. They were afraid.

Still, that did not stop them from staring him.

He didn't meet anyone's eyes, he was afraid of what he might find in them. Disgust. Hate. Amusement. Pity. Empathy. Relating. Jealousy? He didn't want to know. It sickened him. All he wanted from high school was to stay invisible, not gain a reputation as that someone of something. Now it had been flushed down the toilet.

Much like his lunch.

And breakfast.

And yesterday's dinner.

He had been vomiting a lot. The situation made him horribly anxious, and his body reacted by being sick whenever it could. Alfred had been questioning him if it was something else, his imagination running wild. Of course, Matthew had tried to calm him down, telling him it was just because of his nervousity, but the other twin wasn't easy to convince. He was sure Matthew was going to die because of some illness and there was nothing to do. Matthew had looked at his twin dryly and told him not to watch "Mystery Diagnosis" anymore.

* * *

"Hello Mattie", Arthur smiled, sitting on the trash where he had took Matthew weeks ago. The Canadian returned the smile and climbed next to his boyfriend. He pecked a soft kiss against the Briton's lips, earning a chuckle.

"How was school?" Arthur asked, a careful tone in his voice.

"Fine", Matthew uttered a hurried answer. It was a lie, both of them knew it. Neither wanted to speak about it, so they let the subject go.

"Want to go somewhere? I haven't got hockey practice today", he asked, kind of hoping for Arthur being busy. He wanted some time to think, process what was going on in peace. The same time, he wanted to be with the punk, to hear him say everything was allright and there was nothing to worry, things were going to be just fine.

Arthur hummed quietly, not looking at Matthew. Then he turned his eyes gaze on the Canadian, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

"How about this. We go to my place."

* * *

"_Oi, Arthur! Come here for a sec."_

_Alistair was sitting in kitchen, trying to figure how to fix the toaster. Faint smell of smoke was in the air, due to unsuccessful attempt of making a breakfast. The redhead had a knife, which he was using to screw the toaster open. Arthur peeked out of the bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth, and looked at his brother dryly._

"_You're going to die if you try that."_

"_Am not, now gimme a hand and tell mi where I put the instructions of this damned thing", he growled and hit the toaster harsly._

"_You burnt it."_

"_...of course."_

"_Was that all or is there something you actually wanted to say?"_

"_Aye, I'm going to visit a friend of mine in another town. It will take late, I might even stay for the night. So ye're alone here tonight."_

* * *

Of course this was the perfect opportunity he had been waiting for. With Alistair gone, Arthur could actually spend some time with Matthew without the fear of someone seeing them. They could finally relax, no glancing around to see if someone from school was near, no hiding behind the bushes, nothing. Just being.

That was, of course, if Matthew said yes.

The Canadian had been awfully quiet for a few moments now, and that was growing a nervous root in Arthur's stomach. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after yesterday's events, maybe the lad wanted some time for himself. Arthur was about to tell him they could do something else, when Matthew finally spoke.

"Why the hell not. Let's go."

**We all know what you are thinking about the next chapter. I will not promise you anything...he, he, he.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, I'm finally back, and you better be enjoying this chapter because I had to eat a small baby rabbit to be able to write this. This was certainly out of my comfort zone, so it might suck roally. But, anyway, it's here.**

* * *

Almost immeaditely after he had left the headmaster's office Francis had thrown up. It had then hit him what he was doing; terrorizing Matthew, _his friend_, just because his enemy was with him.

It didn't make any sense.

He didn't like Arthur. Arthur didn't like him. The only good thing about the Brit was that he could strangle someone, and now that they were to expell if he did so, not even that. So there was absolutely no reason for him to feel that way about him.

Yet there he was, doing horrible things.

_It didn't make any fucking sense._

He tried to explain to himself why he did those things, not really finding a reason. Maybe he was just a selfish brat who does everything to get something he wants. Maybe. He didn't know.

Francis wasn't the kind of person to do this. He was a great guy, funny, handsome, friendly, even if sometimes perverted, generally a good person. He always gave little compliments to everyone, helped everyone he could, was in good terms with most of the school. He didn't try to ruin someone's reputation on purpose, he couldn't. He was a big brother-kind of guy, who tried to make the best for everybody.

The following day Francis left his house the same time he always does as he heads to school, but he never arrived there. Instead, he found himself from the city centre, wandering the streets with a blank expression. He didn't want to face Matthew and Arthur. That would've been too much. Guilt was pressing him down.

He didn't really do anything while strolling the streets; he merely walked forward. He lost all track of time, he was too deep in thoughts.

He was snapped out of it when two familiar figures walked past him on the other side of the street.

He saw how their fingers brushed lightly, then linked and stayed that way.

At that moment, part of him wanted to go there and separate the hands.

However, he listened to that another part of him and ran away, to the nearest public toilet and threw up.

Shaking on the dirty floor of the cubicle, his hand found its way to his pocket, and he grabbed a necklace, grasping the fine wooden pearls of it. A cold sweat slowly ran on his forehead as he prayed for forgiveness.

* * *

When following Arthur's lead, Matthew had seen Francis, pale and somewhat scruffy there, on the otherside of the street. His eyes were wild, and just when he was about to say something about him to Arthur the Frenchman had turned away and disappeared into the crowd. He looked there, confused and worried, but when Arthur squeezed his hand he looked back at him and got a kiss, and that was enough to distract him.

* * *

Arthur's place was a bit of a surprise for him; the Brit had never said much about it, and when he had the words were something like "if flats were like children, that would be an abortion". Naturally he hadn't been expecting a golden palace with white tigers and belly dancers waiting, but a more-than-scruffy apartment building with graffitis serving as tattoos wasn't on his mind either. When he heard the police car somewhere it was just the cherry on the top.

No, actually the thugs eyeing him and Arthur down the street was the cherry.

Boy was that one of the times he appreciated his strenght.

Arthur seemed to notice his nervous glances, and smiled reassuringly.

"Cheer up, lad, all the blokes around here know who I am and know I am not to mess with."

Matthew shot a glare.

"That's not funny."

"You're just a ninny."

After Matthew planted Arthur a punch on the shoulder they entered the building.

* * *

If Arthur's jokes outside had failed making Matthew feel amused, all was forgiven once they had found their way into the apartment.

You see, Matthew was told they'd be alone there, as Arthur's older brother had left for some errands. _Arthur_ was told they'd be alone.

Well, Alistair happened to be a dick so an empty flat wasn't what was awaiting for them.

The ginger was sitting in the kitchen, a cigarette between his lips. He seemed calm, but when you saw his eyes you knew this was not someone to piss off. He looked at the two younger boys, a smile-like grin on his face, and chuckled.

"So that's the mystery boyfriend. Isn't what I was expecting."

Arthur, face red, anger making his blood boil, stared his brother and tried to comprehend what was going on. Matthew just stood there, not certain what he should do. Finally Arthur remembered how to make sounds, and began shouting at Alistair.

"You bloody fucking wanker, what are you doing here?! You were supposed to not be here, you fuckwit!"

"No manners whatsoever. Not that I dinnae know that already. Oi, Art, act like a gentleman. You might scare the poor laddie away", Alistair said, calm as ever. Arthur fought the urge to smother him.

"Shut up, you drunkard! And fuck off."

"Language, Artie dear, language", Alistair shook his finger, and stood up, walking to Matthew. He was way taller than the Canadian, and suddenly Matthew felt very insecure.

"So yer Matthew. I imagined ye to be a wee thing, not a fucking stone statue."

Unable to come up with a proper answer, Matthew said the first thing he could think of.

"Uhmm...hi."

"Look at that, it can talk."

Matthew blushed a little. Alistair was very confusing. The ginger laughed, then smacked the Canadian gently. "I'm just messin' with ye, ye're good. So sorry for you to be with that screamer."

"I'm not a screamer!" Arthur protested. Alistair uttered something, which Matthew couldn't quite comprehend due to the accent, and Arthur blushed madly. The older brother laughed shortly, and then ruffled Arthur's hair. His hand was slapped away though.

"Ye're a screamer, face it lad. I better get goin' or Jack will think I have forgot him. See ye. Don't wreck the flat or anythin'", Alistair said, and grabbed his jacket. Arthur did his best to kill him with looks, but luckily that wasn't very succesful. Before escaping from the flat, Alistair said something which made Arthur grab the book that was lying on the table and throw it towards the door. The ginger had closed it just in time to avoid the hit.

"I'm going to kill that wanker", Arthur huffed, and Matthew couldn't help but burst into laughter. Arthur, blushing, frowned. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, just you", Matthew managed to say, "it's not like Alistair did anything that bad, I think."

Arthur just stared Matthew dryly, a slight smirk appearing on his face.

"That's because you don't understand Scottish dialect."

Matthew blinked and stopped laughing. "What did he say, then?"

"Maybe I don't know", Arthur smiled, and leaned on the wall, radiating that evil aura he had. Matthew rolled his eyes. "Now you're just childish."

"Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?"

"Come on Arthur, don't be like that. What did he say?"

Arthur just smiled, humming a little. Matthew sighed, and walked to Arthur, closing the distance between us when he wrapped his arms around the Briton's waist. He smirked when a faint blush creeped on Arthur's cheeks.

"If you don't tell me I'll to torture you."

"I doubt you will succeed."

Matthew placed an innocent kiss on Arthur's lips.

"We'll see", he whispered, and smiled wickedly. Arthur pulled him to a kiss.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me."

Matthew stared at the fridgerator, terrified by the insides. There was something in it that resembled soup, and something that might have been concidered food once among the ingredients. The Brit blinked a couple of times, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"That fridge. It's terrifying. Please don't tell me you have actually eaten _that_, or plan to eat it sometimes", Matthew pointed at the soup, careful in case if it decided to come back to life. Arthur scoffed.

"For crying out loud, it's not that horrible! There's nothing wrong with that."

"Really? _There are nuts in it._ And I think it's supposed to be chicken soup, but I can't say for sure. _You simply do not put nuts in chicken soup._"

"I didn't cook it. It's Alistair's doing. Blame him."

"Did you eat it?"

"Yes."

"I will never kiss you again. Ever."

"_Oh come on-_"

"No, seriously. That's disgusting. And what's that stench?"

"It's just the spaghetti left-overs from Wednesday", Arthur said, and sighed irritated. Matthew frowned, holding his nose.

"Did you cook it?"

"Yes."

A moment of silence. Matthew stepped a little further.

"How about this. I fix something for us and you stay away from the kitchen. I'm hungry, but I don't think I would be able to digest something that stinks that horrible."

* * *

Arthur found out Matthew makes the best pancakes in the world.

Matthew found out Arthur actually has tastebuds.

* * *

"I've never heard of these movies."

Arthur's collection of DVDs and video tapes was on the floor as they tried to find something to watch. Easier said than done. It turned out, they had very different taste in films. Arthur was into fantasy and historical, Matthew was more fond of comedy and action. Arthur didn't have anything that would've suited them both.

"You're missing a great deal. That movie is fantastic-"

"It's about vampires. You know, I'm beginning to think that book you had, what was it, 'House of Night' really was yours..."

"Sod off! It was for my cousin. There is no way I would have something like that in my bookshelf!" Arthur defended himself. Matthew just rolled his eyes, and grabbed one DVD case. He read the title, a confused look in his eyes.

"Keeping up appearances? What's that?"

Arthur looked at him, baffled. "You've never heard of it?"

"Well, I haven't heard of most of your movies so..."

"Keeping up appearances is an old British programme about a woman called Hyacinth and her husband Richard. Hyacinth wants to be in the elite, and does pretty much anything to get there. Hyacinth's sisters, Rose and Daisy, are pretty much the opposite of what Hyacinth is. It's a bloody brilliant show. It's so funny you will piss your pants", Arthur explained, taking the case from Matthew. "Want to watch some?"

The Canadian shrugged. "Better than vampires."

* * *

After two hours of watching the comedy, Matthew was lying on his stomach on the couch, and Arthur was laying on top of him, face buried between his shoulderblades. Neither of them were really following what was going on with Hyacinth (It had something to do with golfing). Arthur drew patterns on Matthew's back, giving him a relaxed feeling. His day hadn't been the best, certainly not, and it was just perfect to have someone close, to have some human contact. He would've surely fallen asleep if the TV hadn't been on.

"You know why you're so perfect?" Arthur murmured, lifting his head slightly. Matthew made a questioning noise.

"You're strong and big enough to let me use you as a pillow. It's fantastic."

Matthew laughed. "So you really are after my body then? Nothing to do with my delightful personality?"

"Hush. Pillows do not speak."

"I'm going to drop you, dumbass", Matthew jokingly threatened. Arthur grasped his shirt.

"No, you're not you to do that because you're going to come down with me. I'm not going to let you go, I'll lock the windows and the doors and tie you to the sofa and then I'll just lay on you all day. Forever."

A moment of silence.

"Arthur, I hope that is not your idea of talking dirty."

He knew the Brit was blushing now, and smirked. He always knew how to get him.

"Well", Arthur said, "if you want me to talk dirty to you, you just have to ask."

Aaaand Arthur knew how to get him.

Matthew dropped Arthur on the floor. Arthur swore, and then launched on Matthew. They engaged into a playful wrestling match, and neither paid any attention to the TV.

* * *

"Wait, it's already 7 PM?" Matthew suddenly realised, and began to search for his cellphone. "Fuck, I better call my parents to pick me up. They'll be worried if they don't know where I am."

He dialed the number, and waited for them to answer. Arthur sat on the sofa, staring Matthew carefully.

After a minute Matthew sighed in irritation.

"They didn't answer. They must be in the grocery store and forgotten their phones home. I'll call Al instead, he can tell them."

"Does he have a car?" Arthur asked. Matthew shook his head. "It might take a while for me to get a ride. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind."

Matthew dialed his brother's number and pressed the phone against his ear. After a few beeps, Alfred answered.

"_Luke Skywalker speaking._"

"Yeah, very funny Al. Listen, I'm at Arthur's house, and I need a ride. Where are mom and dad?"

"_Arthur's house? You're not doing anything dirty, are ya?_" He could see the perverted smile on his twin's face.

"No, we're not. And it's not your business anyway. Answer my question."

"_Sure, nothing dirty...heh. And about mom and dad, here's the thing..."_

* * *

Arthur observed Matthew's face as he conversated with Alfred. He couldn't hear what the other was saying, so he wasn't certain what was going on. Judging by Matthew's face, things weren't going like planned. The Canadian sighed, and turned to talk to Arthur.

"Al says our parents are at a party, and it's going to take a long time. They'll propably be home at midnight. I don't have a ride."

Arthur oh'd, and bit his lip. Well, there was always one possibility...

"You can stay here for the night if you want to."

Matthew raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised, and Arthur thought for a moment he had scared the lad. For his reveal, a smile appeared on the younger one's face.

"If you don't mind."

* * *

"I didn't know you have a tattoo."

Matthew marvelled the red guitar that was on Arthur's thigh, surprised to see it in such place. Arthur smirked. He was wearing a loose T-shirt and his boxers, nothing else, sitting on the bed and looking at his boyfriend.

"Not many do. I like to keep it as a secret. It's a nice little surprise, isn't it?"

Matthew couldn't argue with that. He sat on the bed, still looking at the tattoo. "Why did you take it on your thigh?"

"Not many people are allowed to see my thighs."

"Does that mean I should concider myself lucky to see them?" Matthew smiled, meeting Arthur's eyes. The Brit chuckled, and placed his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "Damn lucky", he said, and kissed him.

* * *

**YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO WRITE SMUT. DIRTY YOU.**

**Well, you weren't the only one, I've been getting a lot of junk mail lately from this "CANAD1AN PHARMACY" which offers me cheap viagra and comdoms. I have no idea why I get them.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello again! I present you yet another chapter of angsty-funny-fluffy-fuck-it-mess I call a story. And I'd like to remind you of the fact I am an asshole. For a reason. Yah. But onto the story.**

* * *

_Arthur didn't like his classmates that much, and his classmates weren't too fond of him either, so it was a matter of wondering why Arthur was invited to the class party, and why Arthur had actually agreed to come. No one was sober; it was a sleep-over to celebrate the end of their first year. Some were more intoxicated than others. Arthur had never been good at holding his liquoir, no matter his daily use of rum. So he was actually laughing with the others and enjoying himself, even though wasn't quite aware of what he was doing._

_Suddenly he felt another person falling next to him on the couch. Francis' blonde head was flushed, and there was lipstick on his forehead. Arthur giggled._

"_What's funny?" the Frenchman asked._

"_You're drunk", Arthur slurred. Francis grinned._

"_That's right! Oh wait, you're drunk . Maybe you just think I am drunk because you're so drunk."_

" _'m not drunk. I'm de-dehydrated."_

"_I see. So does that mean I am drunk?"_

_Their conversation didn't make much sense after that. Their actions didn't make much sense. Somehow, the two of enemies had stumbled together into the host's parents' bedroom and what do you know, they found a mysterious video tape._

"_Oo. I wonder if there's football recorded here!" Arthur marvelled the tape like it was a jewel. Francis managed to grab it and shoved it into the video player._

"_We'll see it now!" he chirped._

"_Bloody fuck, Frog, you're smart! Really shmart. Shhm- smmh- Smart. Yeah, smart."_

_It wasn't football. It was porn._

_Absolutely hypnotised by what they were seeing, Arthur and Francis stared the TV in awe._

_After that, Arthur remembers the bed creaking, naked limbs and moaning. Something wet and warm._

_He knew what had happened and suddenly sobered up. He ran away from the house and tried to forget it._

_When he saw Francis after the summer he knew Francis remembers it too. And he knew Francis wants to forget it._

_Their hate towards each other grew._

* * *

"Did you just throw up?"

Arthur looked at Matthew, worry in his eyes. Matthew tucked his hair behind his ear.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. I'm fine. I've just been stressed lately, that all."

Arthur casted his gaze down, biting his lip.

"Is it because of us?"

Matthew didn't answer.

"I'm sorry, I don't want you to be hurt-"

"Don't say such things", Matthew cut him off and sat next to Arthur on the sofa. "Things will be better. It's just some rough times. No need for you to be sorry, it's not your fault."

Arthur knew he didn't have the heart to say it would be better for Matthew, mentally and physically, if they broke up.

* * *

"Are mum and dad here?" Matthew asked when he got back home. Alfred nodded.

"Yeah, but they don't know you spent the night at Arthur's. When they got back home they were super-drunk. Dad almost took a shit at the closet. And mom saw everything double, so she assumed I was in the kitchen with you. Now they're recovering from their hangover, so no worries, broski."

Matthew sighed in relief and walked into his room. Alfred followed his twin.

"Tell me what you guys did there. Did you shag?"

"Al-!"

"Does he scream 'all glory to the Queen' when he cums?"

"Why are you so interested in this stuff? Are you secretly gay? Or do you have a brother complex?"

"What? No. I'm just curious, man!"

"We didn't shag."

"You're lying."

"Am not."

"Are too! You two totally shagged."

"We didn't shag. Now please go fuck yourself", Matthew opened his closet and tried to find something to put on.

"If you didn't shag, what did ya do? Drink tea?"

"We watched TV and talked. Al, I'm going to change, go away."

"All night? That's it?"

"We slept. Go away."

"Together?"

"Yes, and it's none of your business, and fuck off already or I am going to rip your balls and feed them to a sheep."

Alfred was quite attached to his testicles, so he decided it would be the best if he just left his twin to get changed. When he left the room, he muttered "they totally did shag" and Matthew threw a shoe on his head.

* * *

"Dude, you gotta check this out", Alfred called Matthew. He was on Facebook, very excited look on his face.

"What is it? Is it worth of getting up?" his brother muttered from the couch. Alfred nodded.

"Totally! You will not believe who just broke up!"

"Brangelina?"

"Better."

"What would be better? And why do you keep saying 'totally'?"

Alfred spun on the chair to face Matthew, not bothering to explain his choice of words. "Natalia and Feliks aren't dating anymore. Can you believe that?"

Oh Matthew could. Unlike Alfred, he knew what was the truth behind their relationship. Still, he was equally surprised, but for a different reason. "What?"

"Uh-huh. It's all over Facebook, now that Natalia is available again. Well, in the end no one thought their relationship could last..." Alfred rambled and Matthew lost track as he wondered why they didn't continue their act. Feliks didn't seem to want people know he was gay. Did Natalia and he fight? Too many questions.

"That's...weird", he managed to say. Alfred had already returned to the computer, typing furiously.

"You think Tino will make a move on her?" he asked, and Matthew laughed.

"Of course. He's head over heels for her. There is no way he wouldn't."

"Yeah, you're right. Gonna be a chore, though. There's like, 20 guys already asking if she needs someone to comfort her."

"That's pretty useless", Matthew huffed. Natalia if anyone didn't need a shoulder to cry on. It wasn't even certain if she was able to produce tears. Matthew sat up and was about to go get a soda for himself, when Alfred's high-pitched "Oh my God" caught his attention.

"What is it now?" Matthew asked, and walked to his brother. The look on his face was shocked.

"Berwald Oxenstierna's profile says he is gay! Can you believe it?"

"What?!" Matthew leaned to see the screen. Indeed, it was true; the Swede's profile stated he likes men.

"Oh my God. I never thought of that possibility. I mean, it's _Berwald._ He seems to be the type girls would go for", Matthew said. Alfred made a noise of agreement.

"I know! I kind of wondered why he wasn't dating, though, but he seemed to be so into hockey and his duties as the captain he didn't have the time."

"That's so strange", the Canadian muttered.

"Seems like you're not the only gay in the village", Alfred chuckled. Matthew slapped the back of his head. "I'm not gay, I'm bi, dumbass. And don't turn this conversation to me."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Geez, and I thought soccer players are gay...What's going on, outta-the-closet-week?"

* * *

He was bad influence.

Arthur stared himself at the mirror; ripped jeans, pierced ears, a worn t-shirt with a vulgar band name on it, bare foot that had scars. His tattoo peeked from the holes that were on his jeans. A green choker with studs around his neck. A hand-made bracelet that sported the anarchy sign. A scar on his elbow that was made when a certain drunk idiot decided to use it to suffocate their cigarette. That drunk idiot was Arthur himself, though.

His breath stank like rum.

Arthur felt guilt twisting his insides.

If Arthur wasn't like that, Matthew wouldn't be in the state he was now. He was the reason to all the problems Matthew had.

That's not how things should've been.

Arthur didn't want to hurt Matthew, but dammit he couldn't let him go; the way the Canadian made him feel was too good, and he wanted to keep Matthew to himself.

Maybe things would turn better, like Matthew said.

* * *

Matthew was about to go sleep, when his phone beeped. A new text message. He grabbed the phone and checked the sender, just to see if it was worth of opening (because dammit, he was tired).

His eyes widened.

_Francis_.

* * *

**LE BAM. A cliffhanger! Everyone likes those!**

**So yeah, now it makes sense why Francis and Arthur are so...Francis and Arthur-y.**

**I like reviews.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Not much to say about this chapter. It's short and kinda shit.**

* * *

It was so goddamn cold outside. Matthew couldn't figure why, the days had been so warm lately. It was dark, too. That was understandable though, it was 11 pm and certainly not the time to be out.

But he had a reason. Maybe not a good one. But he had a reason.

He noticed the familiar figure at the end of the street, back to him. Matthew walked faster to reach him.

"Francis."

The blonde turned around. Matthew flinched. Francis's face was pale, he looked sick, and his eyes were puffy.

"Bonsoir, Matthew."

"You look like shit", the Canadian said. Francis let out a quiet laughter.

"Oui, I suppose I do. That tends to happen", he responded, and looked at Matthew. "You don't look your best either. Have you been sick?"

"Uh, kind of."

Neither of them said anything after that. Matthew studied Francis. Once the definition of beautiful, Francis was now a ghost of himself; he was like a corpse. His hair was dirty and messy, so very unlike him. His clothes were probably something he had quickly grabbed from the closet. It was intimidating, really. Then the Frenchman broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to be like that. I didn't want to harm you. I just...lost it. I don't know why. _Je suis desole_."

Francis looked Matthew straight into his eyes. His regret was obvious. Once all-mighty and powerful man, now there was a little child in them. Matthew's stomach twisted.

"It's okay-"

"No it's not", Francis cut him off. "I was a dick. A massive dick. I made things worse than they could've been. And all because I was angry and stupid and delusional and jealous-"

"What?"

"Quoi?"

Matthew watched his upperclassman in confusion. Things were too damn difficult. He wanted an explanation. He exhaled, and determinedly set his mind to find out why all of this had happened.

"Francis. You tell me everything. Tell me why Arthur and you hate each other so much."

Francis sighed, fidgeting. "Do you really want to know?"

"I've been beaten, avoided, alone and I lost a friend because of this shit. I _need_ to know."

There was a silence, Matthew staring Francis, Francis avoiding his eyes.

"We fucked. Once. We were drunk. Really drunk. It was...stupid. Really stupid."

The Canadian couldn't find the words. He had expected something like this, but _sex_? Not that. What he knew, Francis and Arthur had hated each other since they met. How on earth they could've fucked, even if both were drunk?

"You should ask Arthur for more. After all, he's your boyfriend."

"Arthur won't tell me", Matthew blurted. Francis chuckled. "I know."

"Then how am I supposed to make him tell me?"

"You're a cunning little shit. You'll figure out something."

* * *

Someone once said Arthur shouldn't drink any sort of alcohol more than a glassful unless he wanted to be labeled as a crazy hobo. Arthur had ignored it; usually people with multiple heads were either imaginary or stupid.

But maybe they had been right, the heads. Arthur knew he wasn't right; today the usual portion of rum hadn't been enough. He had taken another cup, still not enough. He was still shaking, anxious. He had headed towards Alistair's cabinet. Many shiny bottles filled the small space, and he had picked one randomly. Whiskey. Good whiskey. Alistair might complain about that later when he got back home from work. Didn't matter; Arthur's anxiety was easing.

Shitty Sunday.

Arthur slumped more on the couch, gulping the last of the whiskey. Empty. How sad. Had to do. He didn't want his head severed, anyway, and he was buzzy enough to feel good. He had to be numb, Arthur wasn't a weak person, he could handle stress perfectly fine, but knowing he is hurting Matthew did eat him, because it wasn't right to make shit happen to good people but oh, how good did it feel to have that person all to yourself. A mess, a raging storm was inside him, and alcohol would make hi forget it. Even for a while.

It wasn't going to be a thing, really. Arthur would come up with something that wouldn't hurt anyone.

Did someone knock the door?

Nah.

Arthur hummed a tune, closing his eyes.

Someone did knock the door.

Shit.

For a moment, he wondered if he was drunk enough to ignore it or sober enough to go answer the door, but then they knocked again and he got up, wawering a bit, and stumbled to the door, muttering something about mint bunnies.

How did you use these things again?

After a moment of thinking, he remembered the manouver, and managed to open the door.

Shouldn't have.

* * *

"Oh my God."

That was the first thing Matthew managed to utter. There Arthur was, wawering, distant, drunk. His T-shirt had a wet spot on it. Arthur's hair was even messier than usual. Eyes hazy.

Fucking pissed.

"You're drunk", he said, and Arthur blushed. The Brit tried to say something, mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

Fucking pissed.

"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"...I'm...drinking whiskey", Arthur answered, not really aware of himself. Matthew sighed. "Yeah, I can see that. Why are you drinking?"

Arthur's eyes darted between the bottle and Matthew. "I..." the sentence was never finished. Arthur just stood there, awkward, blushing, drunk.

Matthew was disgusted, really.

For several moments, they stood there, staring each other. It was almost like Arthur wasn't there; a cold, ugly shell stood at the doorway trying to figure out how to speak with out a mind. Matthew was speechless. One day, just in one day Arthur managed to transform into this...filthy slob.

"What are you doing?" he repeated. Arthur shrugged.

"I'm not good. I'm bad", he muttered, eyes cast down. Matthew blinked. "What do you mean? Arthur?"

"I'm bad. Bad things happen to you because I'm bad. It's not good", the Brit slurred, stepping back a few uncertain steps. Matthew shook his head.

"No, it's not because of that. Bad things happen, no matter what. It's not because of you", he argued, trying to reason. Arthur scoffed.

"Fuck that! Bad things happen because of me. I know it. I know it. I'm bad. I'm the worst."

"You're not-"

"I'm shit. I know it hurts you to be with me, it's not good for you, but you're so lovely I don't want to let you go...You're mine. I don't..." the rest of the sentence faded away.

Matthew stared at his boyfriend. At his state, there was no way anything was coming out of the bastard. Arthur was hammered. He might aswell interrogate a cat. He sighed.

"You know what? I'm not going to argue with you when you're drunk. You can't think straight. Call me when you have sobered up. I mean, if you have the guts to do that."

He turned around and left, angry footsteps echoing in the hall. Arthur watched as Matthew walked away, desperate to find the words to apologise.

Some winner had Matthew picked up.

* * *

**Just remember what a cute little thing this used to be...hahahhahaha. Angst for the win. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you.**


End file.
